From Brothers To Lovers
by xx-animeXalchemist-xx
Summary: America and England have quite a past what with being brothers, then warring, then... becoming lovers. Just how did it all come to pass? It certainly wasn't a smooth journey... USUK, shounen-ai/yaoi
1. Splendid Isolation

**I shouldn't be doing this... I REALLY shouldn't be doing this! First off, I'm relatively new to Hetalia and I've never written a fic for this fandom yet, secondly, it's 4.30am XD Thirdly, I have three other fics on the go at the moment, but to be completely honest... I have to write this. I've had the idea in my head for a while now, and so here it is. I hope you can enjoy reading this *bows* T to be safe and for a bit of language.  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine, countries are not mine, History is not mine... yeah you get the picture :P  
>Warning: Shounen-aiyaoi is in this fic (USxUK) so no likey no ready, kay :3  
><strong>

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Chapter One- Splendid Isolation

I've always found it stupid, the concept of love. Not just romantic love, but love in general. There was once a time, long ago when I believed that love was this great thing, but due to everything that happened to me when I was created... I quickly gave up on this feeling called 'love'.

It was probably because war was so prominent back then, and because I was new I was an easy target. As a child, I would always be under threat from other countries, always shown hatred. Whenever someone wasn't attempting to hurt me, I was alone. To be brutally honest, I preffered it when I was under attack. At least I got stronger that way. Whenever I was left alone, I cried.

There was no one there for me...

No one cared about me...

Well then, screw them.

That's what I thought. I very quickly learned that this world was a harsh place, and that is when any feelings of love and compassion within me died.

And I thank the Lord that they did.

It's great. Without those needless emotions I've become extremely strong at an impressive speed. It won't be long before I completely dominate the seas, then I will become a superpower, and the whole world will have no option but to hail me and chorus, "Rule Britannia!"

It's these thoughts that spur me on everyday, and in fact I've just gained even more of the seas due to a conflict I've recently been victorious in.

I walk down the cobbled streets of London, my footsteps echoing rather eerily as I make my way to the dungeon. As I take the small key from my pocket to unlock the door, I smile with the sight I am met with.

"Spain... Heh, you were once so powerful and now look at you." As I make my way down the steps towards my captive, he looks up and gives me a look that I'm all to used to seeing: one of complete and utter disdain for me. I couldn't help but get close to him, just to tease him. He attempted to lash out predictably, but the chains around him prevented him from dealing any damage whatsoever. It was so laughable that I couldn't help but let a chuckle escape my lips.

"Dammit! You really don't have a heart, do you eyebrows?" Spain was glaring at me, but I just gave him a look that I'm sure radiated confusion.

"I'm a country, not a human. Why would I have any use for my heart other than to keep me alive? Isn't that what's landed you here Spain? You got too emotional, and made our little fight much too easy. Oh, of course I'm not complaining though, thanks to you I now have control of eighty-five percent of the seas, and it won't be long until the rest is in my grasp as well."

Spain's response to that surprised me, _pity _was the last thing I expected to hear in his tone of voice. He spoke quietly, with a solemn look on his face which pissed me off. He was supposed to be broken! Yet here he was, _daring _to take pity on _me_.

"Listen to me eyebrows, you're existence is pitiful. Just what the hell are you fighting for? You've given up on the emotions that make life worth living!"

"Hah! This coming from you? Look where your devotion to that brat has gotten you!" I gestured to the dingy, dark dungeon he was currently in. He snapped then, as I knew he would seeing as I'd just called someone very special to him a brat.

"Don't you _dare _call Romano a brat!" Spain struggled against the chains, looking as if he'd want nothing more than to severely maime me at this point. "I don't expect someone like you to understand what it's like to feel the need to protect someone."

"You're right, I think the concept is ludicrous."

"How sad... For me, Romano is what makes me fight, I want to protect him. He is my precious little brother and I won't allow harm to come to him."

I couldn't help but be curious with these words. "What the bloody hell are you on about? That's a load of bollocks Spain! Why risk yourself for a small country like him? It would be so much easier for you to just drop him and focus on yourself! Ever since you became his 'big brother' you've tirelessly fought to protect him, severely damaging your own economy and well being! Just look at you, all bruised and scarred, lying in this dungeon because once again you felt this pathetic need to prote-"

"-It's not pathetic! I would never abandon Romano, even if it would make things easier. I've sworn to protect him!"

I just scoffed at this, "How ridiculous."

"How can you live like this, devoid of emotion? You don't understand just how important someone can mean to you!"

"Yes, that's correct. I don't understand, and I'm glad I don't. I would rather die than become like you. You once were so powerful Spain, you even had your own Empire, but this one little boy has destroyed all of that and caused you to become weak. I will never do anything that foolish."

He laughed then. "Don't worry, there's no fear of that happening! Who one earth would want a heartless bastard like you to be their brother?"

"I don't want a brother," I growled, "I am fine as I am. I'm becoming the strongest nation in the world by myself and not being held back by some snot nosed brat! I would never allow that!"

"Are you done eyebrows? I want to go to sleep so-"

"-Tough luck, I'm sick of the sight of you." I reached down by my left hip, pulling out the small dagger I always kept on me. I could see the panic then, in Spain's eyes. It made me happy. The once proud country closed his eyes in anticipation for the end, the last thing he said was, "I'm so sorry, Romano. Please be safe."

Anger. Hatred. Fury.

How could he still be thinking of Romano at a time like this? How is it possible to care for someone so much? This concept is so strange to me, and it annoys me. But that's what I don't understand, I _like _being on my own in splendid isolation, but a small part of me... a small part of me wants to understand these compassionate feelings. A small part of me almost wants to have someone special that I can protect, and have a true reason for fighting.

However, that really is just a small part of me.

The rest of me just raised my hand, all to willing to plunge the sharp dagger into the pathetic man before me who was still praying for Romano. My hand moves like lightning, one rapid swipe.

The chains fall off. I cut through the rest as well, cursing myself. There was a look of pure confusion etched on Spain's face then. I just explained the situation in a monotonous voice.

"I got what I wanted, control of the seas. I have no use for you now, and killing you would be a needless waste of energy. Now get the hell out of my sight you wanker."

I didn't even wait for a reply, ascending the stairs swiftly to head back to my house. There's no doubt in my mind that Spain will go rushing back to Romano, even though he's in such a poor condition.

Why? I am not a human, neither is Spain, and yet there he was praying for Romano. Shouldn't a country have it's own interests at the forefront of everything, why get tangled up with others?

It's stupid, love is stupid.

At least I won't ever be making that mistake. I will become stronger and more powerful, I will dominate the world.

As I finally make it back to my house, I see the light is on. Making my way into the living room I see the captain of the navy sat down.

"Ah, England. I just came to tell you that the ship is ready to depart for tomorrow."

I can't help but smile at this. "Excellent, by the end of the month I will have increased my magnificent Empire further. Tomorrow we shall set sail for the New World and conquer it."

The New World, America. That is my next target, and nothing shall stand in my way!

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**Okaaaayyy, so... yeah "n.n  
>I plan on basically revealing their whole relationship from the very beginning, explaining all the different feelings and such. I imagined England to be kinda cruel at the beginning, after all he was a pirate XD Don't worry though, our usual tea loving gentleman will arrive soon enough :D At the moment this is written from England's POV, but some chappy's will be from Amerca's as well as some being in third person... it'll all make sense later :) So I hope you'll stick with this story and watch it grow, thank you so much for reading~<br>Please review cuz they make me super duper happy ^_^**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	2. And Then That Happened

**Yeah, trying to juggle four fics definitely isn't the easiest thing in the world, but oh well XP**  
><strong>I was just thinking that cuz of all the riots in England, poor Iggy would be even more messed up than usual D: Us Brits need to get it together! Anywho, time for legal stuff:<strong>  
><strong>I do not own Hetalia or any countries or Historical events and so forth etcetera~<strong>  
><strong>Shounen-ai, USxUK although you've probably got that by now XD<strong>

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Chapter Two- And Then... That Happened

"Finally... America."

It was simply breath taking, even I had to take brief break from thinking about Empire expansion to just stop and look at this place. It was unlike anything I had ever seen: wide open spaces, nature everywhere, and wherever you looked there was just this natural beauty to the place. It was blatantly obvious that this was indeed a new country, for everything was just so pure and untainted.

I racked my brain, trying to recall if there was ever a time when my own country was like this. Sadly, all I can bring up are the bitter memories of my past, or the growing industry back at home. Don't get me wrong, I'm very proud of the fact that my country is the richest in terms of industry, but looking at this place... I'm jealous... just a little bit. But then again, there isn't really any need for such a stupid feeling such as jealousy, this place is mine after all... well, it will be when I leave this place.

"England, what's the first course of action?" It was Sir. Jeffry, a high ranking man in the fine British Navy.

"We survey the area, find a place that looks suitable for a base and then leave the rest to the builders we brought along. We shall set up small colonies over here, which will cement our intentions of claiming this place. With a base set up, we will set about finding the new nation and take control of him. I shall inform the other countries to back off America when we return home."

Sir. Jeffry nodded, before going to relay my orders to the rest of the crew.

In the few minutes I have alone then, I can't help but gaze up at the clear blue sky and the sun. You certainly wouldn't get a perfect day like this back at home, well you could but it's highly improbable. This place really is perfect, I can't wait until it's all mine!

"Ohonhonhon~ Why it is little Britain!"

You have _got _to be kidding me! Reluctantly looking up and praying that the person I was imagining wasn't stood there, I'm not surprised when disappointment washes over me.

"What the hell are you doing here, Frog?"

"Aw, why so cold Angleterre~? You should be 'appy to see someone as gorgeous as me, non?" The annoying Frenchman swished his stupid girly hair back and forth in a way that really annoyed me.

"No." I said coldly. "Answer my question: what the hell are you doing here?"

"Why, isn't it obvious? I am claiming America!" I am not even exaggerating when I say that there were sparkles floating around the blonde. I soon slapped them away and left a rather nice red mark on his cheek in the process. "What was that for?" he complained, clutching his cheek and being over dramatic as usual.

"Why do you think I bothered traveling all this way you wanker? America belongs to me!"

"Ohonhonhon~ You make me laugh Angleterre! I was 'ere first, so America is mine, non?"

"Heh, fine. I'll fight you for it, in a war. The winner gets America." I keep my eyes on the frog in front of me, and laugh as I see him pale at the thought of a war against me. It was blatantly obvious that I would win hands down; my navy is simply unbeatable.

In what I can only presume was a last, frenzied attempt by France to convince me to give him America, he said, "But I 'ave already claimed America's brother! It only makes sense for me to 'ave America too, oui?"

I really couldn't be arsed dealing with this idiot right now, besides what on earth is he going on about? America is a new country, so how could he have a brother?

As if on cue to my thought questions, the infuriating blonde gestured to some of his men that were standing a few feet away. When they came closer, France knelt down and cooed, "Now come on Canada~ It is alright, I 'ave someone I want you to meet."

A little boy emerged from behind France's lackeys, and stood looking at me. He was obviously very shy, burying his face in the white dress thing I can only presume France had clothed him in.

"So you're branching out from rape and experimenting with paedophilia now. I guess I'm not surprised," I smirk at the frog who proceeds to hop up and down angrily which just reinforced his nickname.

"'ow dare you say that Angleterre? This is my new little brother, Canada! Isn't that right?" France looked down at the little kid, who blushed and nodded before moving even closer to the blonde. France picked him up with a smile that was saying 'I-told-you-so' to me.

"How the hell does someone like you get a little brother? Surely child protection agencies have some laws against it," I say sarcastically.

France pouted as he said, "'e became attached to me, I am an excellent big brother! And so it only makes sense for me to 'ave America as well, no one would want a bitter guy like you as a brother."

This threw me for a few seconds, hadn't Spain said something remarkably similar to me not so long ago?  
>"I never planned on making him my little brother!" I bite out. "I am merely here to control him! I want rule over America, I'm not here to play happy families! So go ahead and keep that kid you bastard, but stay the hell away from America!" I stormed off then, not entirely sure where I was going as this was a foreign place but I was past caring.<p>

I don't want to spend another second in that guy's company! Screw him; what makes him so special? Why would that kid want _him _as a brother anyway? He clearly has no taste! If I wanted, then I could be a great big brother! I really could! I'd teach him everything, treat him like he was the most important thing in the world and make sure to keep the true nature of this cruel world away from him! I'd... I'd...

I slowed down a bit before coming to a complete halt in the middle of some meadow. "What the hell am I thinking? I don't want anything to do with this brother bullshit! I really don't! I couldn't care less if that rapist got a little brother; it has nothing to do with me! I honestly don't... want a brother..."

It suddenly felt like all my strength was drained from me then, and my knees gave way. I just knelt there for a while, in the meadow, trying to proceed in a logical order. But no matter how hard I tried, there was that stupid image of France with that kid, Canada. France seemed proud to be a big brother, and that child looked happy... why the hell is this getting to me so much? I like being on my own, I've always been on my own, it's better for me on my own...

But... what would it be like to have a brother?

_"Who one earth would want a heartless bastard like you to be their brother?"_

_"No one would want a bitter guy like you as a brother."_

I know. I know that someone like me getting a brother is impossible. But to have someone as precious as a brother... what would it be like?

Suddenly, it felt like I was being watched. I spun around quickly; sure it was France spying on me. However it wasn't that idiot, but a little kid. He looked rather similar to Canada from what I could tell, he was quite a distance away from me. He was just looking at me from a safe distance, before swiftly turning and running away. I don't know what it was about that kid, but there was something that... I don't know how best to say it. But part of me was curious about him, and part of me was wondering what it would feel like to be needed and loved, not constantly hated. After a few more minutes of these trivial thoughts I finally pulled myself together. I am here on business; I want control of America. I do not have time to waste with these pointless thoughts.

And yet... what would it be like to be a brother?

x~x~x~x~x

"-so I think that would be best. What is your opinion on the matter, England?"

"Hm? Oh, yes very good."

"...And then I also think that we should form an alliance with France and you two can be the best of friends."

"Sounds good."

"I knew it! You've not been listening to a single thing I've been saying! Please snap out of it England!"

"Wait, what? Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Honestly, this is most unlike you... did something happen?"

I bit my lip. Damn, this isn't good. I've been acting so aloof ever since I got back from that meadow yesterday, and what's worse is that I can't concentrate on anything. I look at the captain stood in front of me apologetically. "Sorry, I was just... thinking about something. It's nothing though."

He doesn't look convinced at my words, and to be honest I don't think I'd have fooled a simpleton; there was obviously something wrong with me. But why did I have to get distracted now, at a crucial time like this? Could I not have a break down when I can actually _afford _to have one?

"Should I even bother repeating what I just said?"

"Oh, no tea for me at the moment thank you."

"Right, I'll take that as a no. Please England, get it together by tomorrow." I was vaguely aware that the captain walked off then, but I couldn't be sure. I wasn't listening to him anyway; my mind was just filled with nonsense.

I barely got any sleep last night, no matter how hard I tried I just could not shake the image of France and Canada, or of that child I saw in the meadow, and I couldn't stop stupid thoughts from plaguing my mind.

Love is stupid, that's what I believe. So then why am I being burdened by thoughts along the lines of: Why can't I have a brother as well?

This is the worst, the absolute worst. I can't afford to fall at a time like this, when my Empire is on top form and I'm about to become the world's strongest superpower.

At some point in my dazed thoughts I must have concluded that I needed a walk, because when I start to come back to reality I see that I am no longer at the docks conversing with the captain, but heading back towards that meadow.

It was just as beautiful as I remember, flowers growing all around, the scent they were giving off combined with that of the grass was heavenly. I don't know why I was so drawn to this place, but one thing I did know was that this place was simply-

"Ah~ It is Angleterre!"

-Hell on earth with that bastard ruining it.

"Why do you have to ruin everything France? Get out of this place!"

"What? Why would I do that? I was 'ere first."

"I couldn't care less whether or not you were bloody here first! Why don't you just go back to your stupid food, raping duties and that new brother of yours?"

"Aw, so cold as always. It looks as though your tasteless food 'as caused you to 'ave a tasteless personality as well."

"Say that again you wanker!"

"Your food is crap."

"That's it!" I launched myself at the blonde, intent on striking that stupid froggy face of his. I was all too used to this now, France and I never got on. I don't understand how anyone could want to spend time with someone as aggravating as him, and so we usually ended up brawling like this. It was when that idiot had me in a body lock of some kind as I was pulling hard on those feminine locks that I saw him again: the little kid from yesterday. He was looking at both of us curiously.

France noticed my sudden inanimate state and followed my gaze, spotting the child as well. Before I knew what was happening, I was released from the crushing hold. France rushed over the boy who looked like he was contemplating running away, but the Frenchman just said, "It is okay, I am your friend. My name is France... I presume that you are America?"

What? That child is... America? That can't be right! I can't just stand here while France tries to win him over, I came here to take over America! Now is my chance!

The small boy nodded in response the blonde, indicating that he was, in fact, America.

France smiled, "It's great to finally meet you. You may not know this, but I am your big broth-AHH!" I whacked the frog on the back of the head and he fell to the ground.

"So you're America?" I questioned, not bothering to use that stupid patronising voice France had been using. That was something I never understood, why do you speak to children like they are idiots? If they are old enough to speak the language, then they are old enough to be spoken to properly. "I am England. Now I would appreciate it if you would come with me- WAH!"

I wasn't allowed to finish my sentence as the stupid bastard had picked himself up off the floor and tripped me up.

"Don't listen to the bushy eye-browed fool America, I am the one that- GAH!"

"You bastard, you didn't allow me to finish my sentence! How rude! Typical Frenchy!"

"I don't want to 'ear that from you, you English swine! Plus, your cooking sucks."

"What does my cooking have to do with anything? Screw you!"

Completely forgetting about the child who turned out to be America, we returned into our previous fighting status. Eventually I realised that this was getting ridiculous, and it appeared that France had come to the same conclusion.

"Well then, Eyebrows..."  
>"Well then, Frog Face..."<br>"We should just let America decide for himself who he wants as a brother!" we shouted together.

That... was very stupid of me. It struck me that I couldn't possibly win this one. If it was a war then there was no question of my victory, but... although I hated to admit it, the stupid French bastard did get along with people much better than I did. If America had a choice, then obviously he would pick France...

"America, follow me. Now." That's it. That's all I could think of, and when I heard my tone of voice while I said it... well it's no surprise that the child started to back away.

"Come now America, wouldn't you like to come with big brother France? You still 'ave to meet Canada right? I'm sure you two would get along superbly~! If you come with me you'll live in luxury and 'ave the best food in all the world!"

Damn. That was a good sales pitch. How could I beat that? I saw America's eyes light up, he wanted to go with France. I fell to the ground.

God dammit! This isn't fair! If I wanted, I really could be a good big brother! Even though I don't want a brother... do I? But then...

Spain and France's words echoed in my head once again.

Yeah, who would want me as a brother?

Something warm slid down my cheek then. My eyes widened. No way... am I... _crying? _I can't even recall when the last time I cried was. This is pathetic; I am England! Ruler of the seas and head of a vast Empire! And yet here I am, in some foreign land I initially set out to conquer, being plagued by useless emotions and now crying of all things. All the while France is busy gaining America...

Without warning, there's a tug on my sleeve. Quickly doing my best to wipe away my tears, I look up with a guarded expression. It was America...

"Are you okay?" he asked in a small voice, I could see tears forming in his eyes. I looked at him in disbelief, surely... surely he wasn't crying for _me _was he?

I nod slowly; still dubious as to what was going on. I glanced over at France who seemed to have passed out, mumbling something along the lines of, "No way... I got rejected?"

Impossible, this can't be happening right? I thought France just... but now America is... what on earth is going on?

The small boy stopped tugging on my sleeve, opting to cling to my arm instead. "Please don't cry, big brother."

Big... brother...?

America just called me... big brother... So then does that mean that... America wants me to be his brother?

Big brother...

I have a brother...

America is my... brother...

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**Aw~ Iggy got a bro :D But this is only the beginning, a lot of stuff happens between these two! Through the good times and the bad times... I shall reveal all! Pwetty pwease review? :3 They make me very happy~ ^_^****  
><strong>Thank you so much for reading my fic~<strong>**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	3. Being A Brother

**Hey all~! Thanks for your reviews and favourites and such ^_^**  
><strong>Just a quick thing I wanted to do was a reply to Roza about industry and the brother thing. As far as I'm aware, England has always had a pretty good industry, even before the actual Industrial Revolution but I could be wrong so don't hit me : Also, I know Iggy had bro's in the form of Scotland, Wales and the Irelands, but as far as I'm aware they were really harsh to him (especially Scotland) and so he grew up without knowing brotherly love and what it really would be like to have a brother. Hope that clears that up~**

**Disclaimer: Nothing but the story is mine. If I did own Hetalia it would turn into Yaoi Heaven~ XD**

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Chapter Three- Being A Brother

_"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound_  
><em>That sav'd a wretch like me~<em>  
><em>I once was lost, but now am found,<em>  
><em>Was blind, but now I see."<em>

"Hm? America?" I was so caught up in singing that hymn to him that I failed to realise that America, my new little brother, had fallen asleep in my arms. I smile at him fondly, but was unable to stop thinking how ironic this whole thing was.

Since that incident in the meadow, when America decided to come with me of his own volition, things had been... different. I'm even surprised at myself; never had I ever imagined such a turn of events taking place. I had the whole thing mapped out in my mind: I was going to set up colonies, then find this new nation and take him by force. That's what I was interested in: having complete control of the New World.

And yet, here I was. I, England, found myself with a little brother. I hadn't the faintest clue on how to go about being a good brother, but as soon as America had claimed me as his brother it was almost as if these overpowering feelings washed over me. It seemed ludicrous to me; I had always been so sure of myself. I was completely convinced that a country should only look out for themselves and not get tangled up in the affairs of others. But as soon as America chose me, all these strange new emotions consumed me.

I wanted to protect him, to save him the pain of an existence much the same as my own when I was his age. When those big blue eyes of his gazed into mine, I could clearly see the trust that he had put in me. It was a big responsibility, and I was determined not to let him down. I made a vow in that meadow: I would protect America at all costs.

I find it strange even now, the fact that my opinions on everything could have possibly changed so drastically and in such a short length of time. Yet it had happened. Perhaps that's why I tended to sing John Newton's hymn to America, because it reminded me of just how wrong I was. Those lyrics really meant something. This whole time, I was fighting without a purpose, but now I have a reason to fight. Like the lyrics go: I was blind, but now I see.

But I can't afford to go completely soft at this moment in time. Just because I now had a brother, that was no excuse for me to start lacking in my responsibilities. My goals of having the grandest Empire and control of the seas are very much still crucial to me, only now I have added responsibilities designated to me with looking after America. I could already tell that this wasn't going to be easy, and I knew that no matter how badly I wanted to stay with America, I would constantly have to leave him in order to fulfil my initial aims.

"Sleep well, America," I say softly as I lay him on my bed in the ship my crew and I used to get here. Due to this being a new nation, there was no proper dwelling. I intended to rectify this by the time I left. I had the builders we had brought along working on building housing for the first group of colonists who were to settle here, and I also had some starting to construct what was to be America's house. As his brother, I feel it is my responsibility to give him a grand place, so perhaps he won't feel too lonely during the inevitable times I'll have to leave him.

Exiting the ship, it's business as usual.

"England, do you have a minute?" Glancing over in the direction of the familiar voice, I see the sight of Sir. Jeffry approaching me.  
>"Of course, what seems to be the problem?"<br>"I never said there was a problem," he said, laughing slightly.  
>"Please do not take me for an idiot Sir. Jeffry. The look on your face plainly tells me that you are concerned about something."<p>

He gave me a sheepish look before turning serious. "I guess there's no point in sweet coating this England. You see, some of us are beginning to wonder if..."  
>"If?" I urged him to continue.<br>"Well, you've been very concerned with this America child, and some of the men are beginning to wonder if you are going to renege on all your promises about a glorious Empire in favour of this child that you hardly know."

_Oh crap._

I could tell that was what he was thinking as soon as he had said that to me. I gave him a cold look. "You and those men are sorely mistaken if you think I have given up on my own country for God's sake! I have every intention on carrying out our initial plans, don't you worry about that. As for the 'child I hardly know,' he is my little brother so I would appreciate it if you and the others would acknowledge that already." He got the message loud and clear, and when I realised at just how callous my voice had been it was no wonder he understood. But I couldn't help it; I wanted people to know that America was my brother and that I was dead serious when it came to brotherly duties.

France just laughed in my face the day after America chose me over him, saying something along the lines of: I reckon you'll last three days before America gets completely sick of you as a brother.

I couldn't allow that to happen, for the first time in my life; I had someone who genuinely cared about me. These people here with me now, they are here simply because I am their country. I don't really regard any of them as friends, and anyone who does something for me does it either to try and gain some of my power or because they are scared of me. With America, I had a clean start. All I want is to feel needed, and so I plan on being the best brother I can be.

x~x~x~x~x

"Hey, England~!"

"Ah! America, don't run too fast or you could fall!" I made a dash to where he was running towards me, but he quickly dodged out the way and laughed before I had a chance to pick him up.

"You worry too much, big brother. I'm fine, see?" He did a little twirl to cement the fact that he wasn't hurt, but I still couldn't help worrying. I never thought I'd feel this much concern for another, being a brother was stressful! But, that isn't to say that I didn't enjoy it. I'd been in America for a couple of months, overseeing everything and also minding America. At present, we were in the meadow that we had first met in, having a little outing. As I was usually busy with preparations for the arriving colonists and overseeing the buildings, it got to the point where I could only spend quality time with my new brother in the evenings. As he was so young still, he often fell asleep pretty quickly so today when he pestered me to take him to the meadow; I decided that this was time I really did owe him.

"I got these for you~!" He said cheerily, thrusting a bunch of flowers at me. I looked at him for a moment, genuinely touched that the reason he was so intent on finding all the 'prettiest flowers' as he had said, was to give them to me.

"America, are you sure you want me to have those?"  
>"Of course, I picked them for you big brother," he smiled happily.<p>

He was so innocent, so cute. How could I possibly allow any harm to come to him?

"Thank you so much America," I said, taking the flowers he was offering to me and giving him a hug. There was a big smile on my face. It felt good to smile and be happy; before I met America I can't even recall the last time I smiled so much.

When I let go of him, my little brother suddenly beamed and said, "Yay~! I made you smile England~!"  
>"What?"<br>"It's just..." he looked at the ground, not making eye contact with me. "You've been really busy doing stuff, and you always look so serious so... I wanted to make you smile. Please keep smiling big brother."

I felt a pang of guilt then, I had made America worry about me. "I'm sorry," I confessed, "I promise that I'll keep smiling from now on when I'm with you."  
>He grinned then and hugged me once more. This moment was something that I had to cherish, because for the first time ever I am actually loved, and I love my little brother as well. I can't help but laugh at the old me, who was under the disillusion that this glorious feeling was stupid. I finally understand what Spain was talking about back in that dungeon, I guess Romano is to him what America is to me: the most precious thing in the world.<p>

"Hey America, do you have any idea what kind of country you want to become?" I asked the question so suddenly, that even I wasn't sure where it came from. However, I was a little curious.  
>The young boy cocked his head to the side slightly, seemingly considering my question. Perhaps it was too early for me to ask him something like this? But he gave me his answer a minute later.<br>"I will be a country that unites everyone!" he said happily. "Because I overheard the Captain talking with you and some others, and I know that you'll have to leave me soon to go and fight... so if I unite everyone and bring peace, then you can stay with me. Right, big brother?"

For someone so young, this was hardly the answer I was expecting from him. He already had such grand ideas as those in his head? This was completely different to my mind-set: he wanted peace whereas for as long as I can remember, I've been at war. There is a reason for that: peace isn't simply achievable. But America had only the best intentions, so I'd never forgive myself if I crushed his dreams this early on. Besides, the concept of peace was a nice one, even if it was next to impossible to achieve.

"I'm sure you'll grow up to be a fine country," I said to him, smiling.

His eyes sparkled as I gave him that compliment. "Umm... England? Can you sing to me? I really like that one you usually sing..."  
>"Of course, I'll even teach it you one day."<p>

I started to sing 'Amazing Grace' as requested, with America sat on my knee and listening to the words intently. It did seem rather ironic that when I reached the lines:

_"'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,_  
><em>And grace will lead me home."<em>

That Sir. Jeffry called for me from the edge of the meadow. I was forced to stop singing, and America pouted. "You're going to do some more work aren't you?" he said, not even bothering to hide his disappointment.  
>"I'm sorry America, but big brother has to do a lot of things to make this a better place for you."<p>

I gently lifted him off of my knee and stood up, taking his hand. As I approached the man that had called for me, I immediately know that something bad is about to happen. He had a smile on his face as he said; "The colonists have arrived England, along with more builders and more useful materials." He made sure to add on, "Also, the nanny you requested to look after America is also here."

No... This means that I no longer hold any excuse to stay here... I'll have to leave America...

I knew that this was coming; I just didn't expect the gravity of it to hit me this hard. How could I leave America? For once in my life, I had a proper reason to do something, and now I had to leave...

America seemed to sense my unrest and squeezed my hand in an attempt to calm me down. "What's wrong, big brother?"

Sir. Jeffry took the liberty of answering for me. "Your big brother is needed at his own house now, so I'm afraid that he will have to leave now."

"W-what?" He looked up at me to see if this man was telling him the truth. I couldn't conceal the sadness on my face, and tears came to his eyes when he realised that I really was leaving him. "You can't go!" he shouted. "Don't leave me here alone big brother!"

"He isn't leaving you alone America," Sir. Jeffry took control of the situation, because at this moment in time I was physically unable to do anything. "England made sure to get you a really nice nanny to look after you while he is away."

"But why do you have to go, England?" He was clearly looking for me to answer this time.

"I'm so sorry America," I said quietly. I cleared my throat and tried to deal with this in a mature way as I said, "I have to attend to my own matters at the moment. Please don't cry like that..." I bent down so that we were face to face, gently wiping away the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. "I promise that I'll come back as soon as I can."

"Did I do something wrong?" he sniffled.

"What?" I asked, surprised that he would even ask such a thing.

"You're going to leave... so did I do something bad that made you want to go?"

I pulled him into a hug, and said firmly, "Don't ever think that America. I'm your big brother, and I love you very much. Please don't think for even a second that I'm going because I want to. I have to go to sort out affairs concerning my own home and the Empire. I promise you right now that I will return when I can, but in the meantime I've gotten you a really nice nanny to keep you company."

"I don't want a nanny, I want England!" he cried into my shoulder as I continued to hug him.

I never imagined this to be so painful. I really didn't want to leave America, but I didn't have a choice. Brother or no brother, I am Britannia, and I have a purpose to fulfil.

"I'm sorry America, but while I'm gone I'm sure that you will learn many things. I'm sure you'll have grown next time I see you."

I could feel the fabric of the shirt I was wearing dampen slightly on my shoulder, where America's tears were being absorbed. I felt so horrible for doing this to him, but he is my reason to fight now. I had to leave him now, to make sure that the world outside of this nation wouldn't hurt him. I am no longer building an Empire for the Hell of it, or to spite those who attacked me when I was a child. I am building an Empire so that I will have control of any and all countries that could possibly pose a threat to my little brother.

America... Everything I do now is for you. So please don't cry while I'm gone, big brother will be back soon, I promise.

x~x~x~x~x

**Ouch, that first goodbye must be painful :( But America will see his big brother soon enough ^_^ So hopefully I managed to pull of Iggy's transition from awful tyrant to caring brother okay, but don't for a second think that he's gotten soft. Captain Kirkland still has an Empire to build after all!** **As always, your reviews bring me much happiness so please do that, it only takes two seconds~ :D**

**Well, thank you so much for choosing to read my fic ^.^**  
><strong>xx-animeXalchemist-xx<strong>


	4. When It Was Innocent

**Hey everyone :) Usually I write long ANs but I can't really think of much to write... apart from the fact that I turned 16 the other day! :D So I've been chilling in London for a few days, which is where I am updating from ^_^****  
><strong>Disclaimer: Really? It's obvious that I don't own this people "-.-<strong>  
><strong>Contains: GermanyxPrussia... lolJK it's USxUK :P<strong>**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Four- When It Was Innocent

I know.

Somehow I just _know _when England's coming to visit me. Glancing at the clock by my bedside, I can't stop my mouth from dropping open.

"Seven o'clock? This is way too early!"

But I don't care, England is more important than sleep, and it's been _ages _since he last came to see me! Although I know that he'll probably tell me off for going outside in my PJs, I decide to chance it anyway. I hadn't had a letter, nor had I been informed of him coming over here but like I said earlier, I just _know _when my big brother comes to visit.

Sprinting down the stairs and out of the door, I begin to rush down the pathway that leads to my house.

England should be coming up here; he just has to be. He's totally here; I can sense it or something!

"England? England! Hey, you're here right? Big brother!"

"Huh? America?" There he is, my big brother. I knew I was right! I'm so cool!

I begin to run up to him but... uh-oh. He looks kinda mad...

"America! Why are you up so early? And why are you still in your pyjamas?" He has a concerned look on his face, I figured that he'd over react if he saw me out here wearing my sleeping stuff. He tends to do that actually, get worried over the silliest things, but I guess it just means that my big bro really cares about me so it makes me happy even if it does get slightly annoying.

"England! It's been ages!" I practically dive on him, and he staggers back slightly before steadying us both. "You said you'd come back soon and you didn't!" I lightly punched him, but the look on his face then made it seem as if I'd nearly decked him. He looked really pained and upset all of a sudden.

"Umm... Big brother? Are you okay?"  
>"I'm sorry," he said quietly, pulling me into a hug. "I know that it's been rather a long time since I last came to see you, but things have been getting out of hand recently. I'm so sorry..."<p>

Man, big bro really knows how to make me feel like the bad guy! I return the hug, breathing in his scent: gunpowder. He had been fighting again. I hate it when he goes off fighting, one of these days he could get really hurt and that would totally suck! I don't know what I'd do without England.

"It's okay," I say comfortingly, pulling away. "You can make it up to me by cooking me something. Oh, and make scones for desert! They're awesome!" I grin broadly at the mere thought of England's food, it really is the best... well I think it is, I mean I haven't actually tried food from other countries. But I'm sure that my brother's food is the best anyways!

He looked at me blankly for a second before smiling. Good, I hate to see bro all upset, if he smiles then I'm happy.  
>"Of course America, I'll make you something right away." He took a hold of my hand and we began to make our way up the pathway back to my place.<p>

"You must change as soon as we get back," England said.  
>I sighed, "I know I know..."<br>He looked at me for a while before remarking, "You've grown quite a bit since the last time. It won't be long until you've grown to be a fine country."  
>"Maybe one day I'll be as tall as England!"<p>

He ruffled my hair affectionately and chuckled when I said this.  
>"Hey! I really could be as big as you someday!" I pouted at him and he laughed gently.<br>"I don't doubt it, you're growing up so fast America." Suddenly he looked all solemn as he said, "Just don't forget about your big brother when you're a country of your own."

"What?" My eyes widened in shock. Why did he say that? How on earth could I _ever _think about forgetting him? "You can't be serious big brother, that would never happen!"  
>His smile returned as he nodded his approval. We reached the house then, and England ordered me to go wash and dress while he prepared the food.<p>

I run up the stairs quickly so that I can look presentable as soon as possible, because it's already been way too long since I've seen big bro. I intend to spend as much time as possible with him while he's here!

x~x~x~x~x

"All right, all done! Now time to go and see England~!"

Catching sight of myself in the mirror, as I'm about to exit my bedroom, I can't help but pull a face. The clothes England gets for me always have so many layers, and the little string tie thing is really annoying. But I guess they are manageable.

It was just as I was about to set foot out of my room that I heard something. It was like a shuffling noise, preceded by a small thud. I stop in my tracks, aware that my heart began to beat slightly faster. The noise sounds once more, the same shuffle-thud. I turn around slowly although I really wanted to run away. It happens again.

"Uwah, it's coming from my wardrobe! There is something freaky inside of my wardrobe! What should I do? I'm going to die!"

I edge slightly closer to my wardrobe, hoping to inspect it somehow. But when I hear the same noise again, it's one time too many for me. I start yelling and made a mad dash for the door.

"America! Are you okay up there?" It was England, worry evident in his voice. Well obviously, I'm screaming my head off.  
>I dash down the stairs and see big brother already stood at the bottom, sleeves rolled up and wearing an apron. Usually I'd make a small joke about how precious he always is about getting the slightest stain on his clothes, but not this time. This time, I was too panicked to even contemplate that.<p>

"America! Calm down, what's going on? And don't run down the stairs like that!"

I don't listen to him and continue to hurtle down the stairs, frantically explaining what is going on. "England! You have to help me! It's a ghost! There's a ghost in my wardrobe! It's really scary and it's going to hurt me! DON'T LET THE GHOST HURT ME!"

Before he even had time to turn the words over in his head, I dived at him for the second time that day. He just about managed to catch me and scolded me for being 'irresponsible.' I merely tugged on his sleeve in a desperate attempt to make him understand the gravity of this horrifying situation.  
>"You're not listening brother! There's a real ghost in my wardrobe! All these scary noises keep coming from there... it's only natural to assume it's a ghost right?"<p>

My big brother didn't look convinced.

"America," he sighed, "I have no idea where this fear of ghosts came from, but I keep telling you that they don't exist."  
>I looked at him in a sceptical way. "How do you know that? You always tell me stories about fairies and say that they're real, so why aren't ghosts?"<br>He didn't really have anything to say to that, apart from defending his stance on the whole 'fairies are real' thing.

I grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs.  
>"Hey, America! Hold on, don't be so hasty."<br>"You have to see it England, there really is a ghost!"

We arrive at my room just in time for him to hear the shuffle-thud noise.  
>I look up at him triumphantly; "See? I told you that there's a ghost in my wardrobe!"<br>"I'm sure that there's a logical explanation to all of this," he said calmly as yet another one of the scary noises sounded once again.

He actually began to walk up to it, as if he wasn't scared at all!  
>"H-Hey! Big brother, don't get too close! The ghost could hurt you!"<br>He looked at me and smiled. "Don't worry America, I'll be fine. Leave it to your big brother to figure out what is going on."

Wow... my brother is so cool! He's really brave and isn't even scared of ghosts!  
>I stand there in awe of him, as he risks death by opening up the cursed wardrobe that is now home to a scary ghost.<p>

His expression twists into one of slight annoyance. He looked back to me and said flatly, "America, how many times have I told you to hang your clothes up properly?"  
>"What?" I asked, coming over to join him (but in a careful way so as not to anger the ghost).<p>

When I gingerly look inside; all my clothes are on the bottom of the wardrobe. Well, all of them apart from a single shirt, which is sliding off its hanger, eventually landing with a familiar shuffle-thud.

"W-wait... you mean..."

"There's no ghost America," England sighed, "This only came about because you tried to short-cut hanging your clothes up."

"No, that can't possibly be right. There is definitely a ghost, I'm sure of it! I mean it big brother! I hung my clothes up properly, so it must be the ghost that slipped them off the hangers!"

He looked at me in a way that clearly conveyed the fact that he didn't believe me.  
>I grab onto his arm and refuse to let go. "I know for sure that there's a ghost in my room and I refuse to spend a single night in here any more!"<p>

"America, don't you think that you're making something that is rather trivial into something much more scarier than necessary?"  
>I just increased my grasp on his arm. "No! There really is a ghost! Sleep with me tonight England, you can fight it off if it tries to attack in the night!"<br>Big brother chuckled as he said, "America, don't you think you're a little too old to be worried about ghosts?"  
>"Aren't you a little too old to be believing in fairies?" I shot back.<p>

"They really do exist!"

"And I'm telling you that ghosts do as well! Please England... please just sleep in my room tonight. I won't ask ever again I promise!"

He sighed as he said, "I seem to recall you saying something like that last time." However he smiled and looked at me as he said, "But I guess I have no choice."

"Yay~!" I grin and release my hold on his arm. Things will be much less scary with England with me!

"Now while I finish off the food, you need to hang all of your clothes up."

"What? Why? It was the ghosts fault!" I pouted; this wasn't fair.

"Well then you can complain to the ghost," he laughed softly, "But they'd better be hung up by tonight okay?"

"Fine," I mumbled. Stupid ghost making me do more work than I need to!

x~x~x~x~x

"Themosf adre rurffdh gdrifh Engldkhds!"

"America, don't talk with your mouth full of food."

I swallowed the scone I was halfway through and tried again, "These are really good England!"

"Well I'm glad that you like them," he smiled, before going all strict on me and saying, "Although I think you may need to slow down... that's your third one."

"No way! I could live off of these!"

"Is that so?" he chuckled before moving to grab the plate with the remaining scones on it. Taking one for himself, he then proceeded to place the plate on top of a really high shelf, out of my reach.

"Hey, no fair! England~!" I began to moan and to my annoyance, he merely laughed.

"You're just too precious America," he said happily while I just pouted, annoyed that my scones had been so unfairly taken away from me. "Stop pulling a face, or else you'll end up stuck like that."

"No way, that can't be true," I mumbled, but quickly stopped pouting just in case it really was true.

Once I'd finished my third scone and was about to ask for more, big brother suddenly told me to follow him.

"What's going on England?"

"I have a present for you," was all he said.

Awesome! I love presents! Maybe it's more scones? That would be great!

However, I quickly discarded the idea of scones because whatever my present was, it was inside a medium sized wooden box, and it would be kinda stupid to put scones in something like that.  
>"What is it?" I asked, looking at it curiously.<p>

"You can open it now and see," he said, handing me the box with a smile. As I began to open it, he said, "I spent quite a bit of time making them, so I hope that you can enjoy them, America."

When I eventually got the box open and removed the paper stuff that was in there to stop whatever the contents were from getting ruined, I just gasped.  
>"No way... you made these England?"<p>

Inside the box were several little toy soldiers, all perfect and painted vibrantly. Upon closer inspection, it seemed that they all had different, individual faces.

Big brother nodded to my earlier question, and asked, "Do you like them?"

"Like them? I _love _them! Thank you so much brother!" I gave him a huge hug before running off to play with my new toys.  
>Wow, England really is the best! He gives me toys, makes awesome food and is always there for me... I'm so lucky to be his brother!<p>

"Oh, hey! America, come back for a second, I need to give you something else!"  
>I stopped in my tracks when I heard this. More presents? This is so cool!<p>

He laughed when I returned with an eager look on my face.  
>"I'm afraid this gift isn't quite as interesting as the last one, but I thought that it could be practical."<p>

I groaned inside my head. 'Practical' always meant boring.  
>He produced a book that was a royal blue colour, with a golden spine.<br>"What is it?" I asked, wondering if it was another fairytale or if he'd gotten me another long textbook to trawl through.

"It's a journal," he replied. "In this you can write about stuff that's happened, or ideas and dreams for the future. Also, if ever you have any thoughts and I'm not here to listen, then you can write them in this journal. They are great for unburdening yourself sometimes." He handed me the journal and I flipped through the crisp, new pages. There were just endless lines, where I guess I'm meant to write anything I want.

"Thank you," I said happily, and waited to be dismissed. England saw this and chuckled. "You can go and play with your new toys now, America."  
>"Yay! Thank you big brother!"<p>

And with that, I rushed off to go and play armies with my sweet new soldiers.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry One-_

_Today, England came to visit me! He didn't tell me he was coming but I already knew anyway. He cooked me awesome food but was a meanie and put the scones where I couldn't reach them once I'd had three. Three isn't that much is it? Oh well, he also made me some toy soldiers. He actually made them himself! They are totally amazing, and they each look different as well. He also gave me this journal thing, so I thought I'd try it out. I don't really know what I should write about, but this seems to be working for now.__  
><em>Anyway, I guess I'll end thi- oh! Wait!<em>  
><em>I nearly forgot, my room is totally haunted by a creepy ghost! Big brother is convinced that there isn't really a ghost and it was my fault for not hanging my clothes up properly, but I know the truth! So brother agreed to sleep in my room tonight, because he's really brave and will protect me from the ghost!<em>  
><em>Okay, now I'm done!<em>_

I nodded proudly at my first journal entry, before closing it and putting it in my desk drawer that I have in my room. As it was pretty late, I had already changed into my pyjamas and gotten ready for bed. It wasn't long before England came in to join me, also in his PJs. He yawned as he entered, stretching and saying, "I really need to catch up on some sleep."

"Huh? Haven't you been sleeping properly big brother?"

"Not really," he confessed, climbing into my bed and sitting up beneath the covers. "I've been so preoccupied with other obligations that it appears my sleeping time has been severely depleted."

"No way! It was you who told me that sleep is always the most important thing and to get at least seven hours every night!"

He laughed softly, "I guess I should listen to myself more often, right America?"

"Yes," I nodded firmly, before walking up to my bed and jumping in the other side. "Thanks England... you know, for sleeping here when there's a ghost and everything..."

"It's no problem," he smiled and ruffled my hair before settling down beneath the covers. I did the same.

"You know big brother, it's been a while huh? I mean, you must have loads of awesome stories about what you were doing when you were away. Can you tell me some?" I waited, but got no reply. "Huh? Brother, did you hear me? I said-" I cut myself off when I saw him already asleep. "No way! Who falls asleep that quickly?" I whispered to myself.

But he looked so peaceful; that I didn't think it would be fair to wake him. His chest rose and fell steadily with each breath.

"Hey brother," I pouted and moaned quietly, "I'm still scared of the ghost you know. It's not fair if you just fall asleep straight away..." But I smiled nevertheless, at least he was here with me and that was something.

I snuggled up to him, before whispering, "Good night big brother. Sleep well, I love you." And then I slowly drifted off to sleep as well.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry Two-_

_Big brother left today, after he stayed for a week. I guess I shouldn't really complain, I know that he's busy. But sometimes I just wish I could stay with England forever, just him and me. I nearly cried when he left, he saw this and told me to cheer up because big boys do their utmost not to cry. I couldn't help it, I have no idea when I'll see him again. In all truthfulness, he did look upset to be leaving as well, he always does. When I told him to stay for longer, he sighed sadly and said something about his house and the Empire._  
><em>He gave me one last hug before he left, and told me that he'd made me some scones for later. I walked with him to the end of the drive, and when I eventually had to stop walking with him, I just stared as he walked away. I carried on looking, long after he'd gone, and realised that I had gone against what he had said, because I was crying.<em>_  
><em>Why do you always have to go big brother? I love you so much, please just stay here with me. I hope that he comes to visit me again soon. Before he left, he told me do to my best and become strong while he was away... I'll definitely do that. If I get big and strong, then England wouldn't always have to go off fighting, and then he could stay with me. If I grow up into a country he can be proud of, then he'll want to always be by my side. If I can just become big and strong, England and I can live happily ever after.<em>  
><em>I guess I'll go and eat some of the scones now, but then straight after I'll focus on getting better at everything.<em>  
><em>Next time you come and visit me big brother, I'll be much bigger and stronger! <em>_

x~x~x~x~x

**Aww, America really likes his bro ^_^ So, was this okay? I mean I've kinda gotten used to writing as my home country, so I was slightly worried about switching. But all in all I think it was okay in the end :) So lovely reader, please review and tell me what you think :D****  
><strong>Thank you so much for reading~<strong>**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	5. The Things That Hold Importance

**Thank you all so much for your reviews ^_^ I gotta say that this is totally unlike me XD What I mean by that is: I'm a comedy author or a totally dramatic author, so I had no idea I could write something so... cute! :P Ah well, it's fun to write this fic~ :D Although, you're probably gonna see more of my dramatic side now...****  
><strong>Disclaimer: Hetalia. Is. Not. Mine.<strong>  
><strong>Just To Say: I have no idea if the war I've included in here actually happened, but it fits with the fic so yeah XD<strong>  
><strong>Contains: I assume you've read the previous chapters, so you should know :P<strong>**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Five- The Things That Hold Importance

_-Entry Six-_

_I marked my height against the wall the other day, I'm so small! So I started doing loads of stretches and lots and lots of running._  
><em>I do this everyday, so I'm kinda tired, but it was totally worth it because I've actually grown a centimetre already! It won't be long until<em>  
><em>I'm as tall as England! I can't wait for him to come back again... please come and visit me soon big brother.<em>

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 58-_

_I read some of the fairytales England used to read to me today. It gives me hope. In the stories, no matter what, the good guys always_  
><em>get a happy ending. Does this mean that all I have to do is wait a few years until I can get mine with big brother?<em>  
><em>If that's all it is, I can totally wait! Oh, and guess what? I'm slowly getting taller everyday!<em>  
><em>This is so cool; I can't wait to be as big as England! I love you England, come back soon okay?<em>

x~x~x~x~x_  
><em>

"England, the French Revolution has all the other European powers in a state of anarchy! What are we going to do?"

"Are you an idiot?" I ask, eying up the pathetic, scared man in front of me. "I couldn't give a toss about the bloody French Revolution, we shall just crush them as we always do. With the Empire within my grasp, do you really think that I would let such a ridiculously trivial thing bother me?"

"B-But what if we have to go to war against him? France and Spain have been in talks recently, and they both harbour grudges against you... what if they simultaneously declared war on you?"

"Listen, who the hell are you? Do you honestly think that those wankers could actually lay a finger on me? So what if there's a war, I'm ready to fight! And I think that you'll find that my fine crew of Englishmen feel the exact same way. We will defeat any threats that stand in our way and claim our glorious Empire!"  
>And with that, I left the naval room I was in so that I could head back to my house.<p>

Honestly, what's the big deal? I can easily handle an attack from anyone, so who cares if France had a revolution? That stupid frog wouldn't be able to deal any severe damage anyway. And Spain, ha! He's so poor it's sickening. Although... I guess that's because he's had more threats from European countries and those who want possession of Romano. Thinking about it logically, I guess that I'm rather lucky to be an island nation because it makes it difficult for others to access me. Of course, in the old days when I was still a child they could reach me no problem, but now that I have such a strong navy... I really am untouchable. The same goes for America really, because anyone interested in trying to take him away from me would have to sail there, they wouldn't stand a chance against my ships.

I sigh as I think about how upset America looked when I last had to leave him. I hope that he's okay.

_"I will be a country that unites everyone and brings peace!"_

"Peace, huh?" I muttered as I opened my front door. "I guess peace would be nice..." Although, it probably won't be long before I'm thrust into yet another war...  
>It's pretty sad that I don't share the same enthusiasm about peace throughout the world. I mean, the idea is nice enough, but I've always been at war. The exhilaration of a fight, the adrenaline that runs through my veins... up until now, war has defined me. I don't think that I'll be able to let that go so easily.<br>But that doesn't mean I'll try and get rid of peace. Hey, America. Don't ever lose sight of your ideals, and strive for peace. Don't let anyone ever tell you that you can't do something. I'm sure that when I next see you, you'll have grown even more... do your best to become strong. Words cannot even begin to express how proud I am of you.

_"I love you, England."_

America... would you believe me if I told you that you're the only one that feels that way? I don't think anyone has ever genuinely cared for me before... I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. How on earth did I survive before? At any rate, I hope I can see you soon my dear brother.

I start to go about making a cup of tea, and not only two minutes after I've sat down, a gale starts up right outside. The whistling and howling of the wind sounds extremely eerie as it rushes through the streets of my country. This is the sort of weather that scares America, he always says that the noises from the wind are actually a ghost.  
>I can't help but smile as I recall how he got spooked by a 'ghost' during my last visit. He really is still just a child... how I wish I could be there to see him grow up every day. But I have other matters to attend to, and this weather... it is an omen.<p>

I pulled myself out of my thoughts about America, and really did focus on the weather then. The wind really was picking up, and judging by the direction various debris was being blown in outside, it was a very strong north-westerly wind. When the whether gets like this, it usually means a war is approaching. Perhaps that guy from earlier was correct, after all I obviously was aware that France and Spain have been meeting regularly.

Putting down my teacup and letting out a sigh, I move to go and inspect something in one of my rooms upstairs.  
>It took me five minutes to get there, and unlock the chest I kept them in.<p>

Pulling out my black hat with the big, white feather first, I take my time to admire my red coat underneath. The embroidery was still in impeccable condition, the gold plated buttons still perfectly in place. That wasn't the only garment still in excellent condition, my blouse was still pearly white and my trousers still that beautiful sea blue. Of course, my favorite pair of black boots were freshly shined and ready to be worn at any given minute.  
>Yes, I could tell now that it wouldn't be long at all until I had to put these clothes on once again. Recently, I've been so busy with America and my own national affairs because I've not had to fight. But this weather... a war is definitely coming.<p>

"Heh, they're both mad if hey think they can defeat me. I, am Captain Kirkland!"

It was only two days later, that someone came to inform me of the news. They needn't have bothered to be honest, I already knew.

"England!" a frantic voice called, bursting through my door without even deigning to knock. "I have terrible news! France and Spain have just declared war on us! What are-"

The messenger stopped when he saw me, sipping tea from my favourite cup and already dressed for war.  
>"C-Captain..." he said in awe.<br>I smirked up at him, "You really think that your captain would overlook something like this? Prepare the fleet, I want to set sail as soon as possible. Those two just don't seem to stay down no matter how hard we strike them, so this time I intend to thoroughly crush them!"  
>"Yes captain!" he said, saluting. "I shall tell all the crew members straight away. We should be able to set sail within the next few days."<br>I took another sip of tea before practically purring, "Excellent."

It really has been too long since I've been in a proper battle; I guess you could say that I've missed it. Before, I always used to lose myself in the glorious feeling of fighting... I'm sorry America. I love you very much, but it appears that your big brother yearns for war more than he first thought... maybe one day you can show me that peace can also feel this grand.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 264-_

_I feel sick. _  
><em>I overheard some of the colonists talking today; they said something about England being in a war against France and Spain. I wish he didn't always have to fight, why does he always have to fight?<em>  
><em>I've always wanted peace, ever since I can remember. But... if France or Spain hurt my big brother, then I will fight. I've become quite a bit bigger now, it won't be long<em>  
><em>before I really can hold my own in a fight. Maybe one day I'll fight beside England, and together we can unite the different countries of the world.<em>  
><em>One thing that I am certain of though, is that if my brother gets hurt, I will fight to the very end to protect him. He's always protected me, and I intend to do the same. I want to be<em>_  
><em>able to stand with him as an equal. He doesn't have to carry the burden of trying to create an Empire while maintaining his own house alone; I'll always be here for him.<em>_  
><em>Do you realise that, brother? I love you; I'll protect you. So come and see me soon. I think I'm finally nearly as tall as you now...<em>

x~x~x~x~x

"Haha! Their offensive is pathetic! Fire the cannons!"

The sound of my own cannons ripping holes through the wooden bodies of the ships trying to oppose me was utterly euphoric. We are currently in the second year of this war, and I've been the one leading from the start. Honestly, this rush, this pure _enjoyment_... it has been so long since I've had adrenaline coursing through my veins.  
>This isn't good. I know it isn't, and yet... I can't help myself. Being away from America for so long has made me forget to be careful; it's just like the old days. This is my fight, and I will win!<p>

"This is no good mon amis! We 'ave to do something quick!"  
>"Damn that eyebrows, how the hell can he afford to pull stunts like this? The force of those cannons... it won't be long until his own ships start to break!"<p>

Ah, seeing my enemies cowering, sweating, fear consuming them... it really has been too long.

"This is what you get when you try to mess with England! Now we will not stop until you are completely destroyed!"  
>Turning to face the rest of my crew who weren't operating the canons, I hold my hand up and ask, "Where is Sir. Frederick's group?"<br>A collection of about 20 men raise their hands. "Excellent," I breathe, before clearing my throat to make myself heard.

"Men, it has been far too long since we were engaged in a battle such as this! I think the reason for that is because, for a while, other countries were sensible and decided not to anger us. It appears that some of those countries have forgotten just what it means to screw with England, so I think it's time to remind them where their place is! Do you agree?"

"Yes Captain!" They all chorused.

"Good," I nodded happily. "Well then, Sir. Frederick's group. I believe that you have been trained in using up-close weaponry, is that correct?"  
>"Yes Captain!"<br>"Perfect. Take your weapons and then use the ropes to swing onto the enemy ships. Once aboard, take as many lives as you can!"

"Yes Captain!"  
>The group set about sorting themselves out, while I gave the order for the cannons to increase their fire.<p>

"We have them now!" I shouted victoriously, "Do not let up for a second! We shall prevail!"

I then randomly selected five men who weren't doing anything of much importance. "You five! Come here, I have a task that I wish to assign to you."

"Enough is enough! Cut down that guy's men as they come over! And then focus on firing at his ship in particular!" Spain was ordering his lackeys to try and get back on the offensive, and France quickly followed suit.  
>"Exactement! Focus the cannons on Angleterre's ship!"<p>

My ship rocked. They had actually managed to pull themselves together and were currently unleashing as many cannons as they could. This came as a shock but to be brutally honest, I was hoping for this.  
>"Hahahahahaha! Now <em>this <em>is what I call interesting! The five that I called earlier, it's time for you to do what I asked of you!"

"Yes Captain!"

"You think you can win against me?" I yelled to my enemies, who were doing their utmost to stay in this battle. "I have no intention of _ever _letting up! It's time for this to end!"

It would only be a matter of time before I could finish this fight. No doubt that when this is over, the rest of Europe will be re-reminded of why you do _not _mess with Britain and then it'll only be a matter of time before the rest of the world bows down to me. This conflict... this is the perfect thing to use as leverage for finally gaining an Empire!

It was ten minutes of excessive cannon fire before the five that I had sent over to enemy ships returned, all of them relatively unharmed apart from one that had gained a rather nasty scar across his face. He didn't seem upset about it though; rather he seemed to be wearing it as a sort of symbol of pride. I could totally understand where he was coming from. Battle scars; the true mark of a valiant warrior!

"Survivors of Sir. Frederick's group, retreat immediately!" I commanded.

"Don't let them escape!" Spain shouted, cornering off one of my men immediately and slashing him with his sword.  
>"Just what is Angleterre planning?" France asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.<p>

Once as many of my men as possible had returned, it was time to enact the plan. It was only now that France noticed what I had managed to do.

"We 'ave to retreat right now!" he shouted worriedly, pointing something out to Spain.  
>The brunette's eyes widened and he glared at me. "Using the same underhanded tactics again, eyebrows?" he snarled.<p>

I merely grinned, before igniting a bottle of alcohol I retrieved from the ship's cellar. I then lobbed the flaming bottle as far as I could, and it landed perfectly on one of the enemy ships.  
>Earlier, I had commanded those five to spread as much gunpowder as they could on the opposition's ships. The vessel that I hit immediately went up in bright orange flames, and frantic shouts could be heard.<br>On my command, more men threw lit alcohol bottles over to the enemy ships. Some caught fire, but because France noticed what I had done early on, quite a few managed to retreat back just in time.

"So much for my cunning plan of ending everything straight away," I muttered angrily, busy trying to formulate new strategies for the future.  
>"How can you be so careless you dick?" Spain yelled in anger, a safe distance away from being hit by a flammable object. "You don't only fight to injure us, you put your own men at risk? What about them? What about your motherland and you oh so precious Empire? What about America? Start fighting fair dammit! And stop putting those on your own side in danger!"<br>The remaining vessels of the enemy fleet retreated then, going to regroup.

I just stood there, motionless.  
>"Don't listen to that idiot, Captain," a crew member said comfortingly. "None of the men think that you harm us, you're the best there is! Ruler of the seas!"<br>Somehow... this didn't help anything. Spain had just said something that pulled me away from my violent thoughts.

_"What about America?"_

What the hell am I doing? That bastard was right; I am being far too careless. What if something happened to me, what would America do? What if someone else took America? What kind of brother does that make me, if I just go and die in some stupid war that means nothing?  
>I'm pathetic. What on earth have I been playing at? It's time for me to get my priorities straight. I have to effectively end this war as quickly as possible, causing minimal damage to my men. But more importantly...<p>

"Captain? Are you okay?"  
>"Yes," I said quietly. "Excuse me, I need to come up with some new tactics. I also need to write a letter." And with that, I retreated to the Captain's quarters to do something that I really should have done much sooner.<p>

_Dear America,_

_I'm pretty sure that by now you must have heard that I am currently at war. Please do not worry about me; I am completely fine. _  
><em>Your big brother has realised that he has been very stupid indeed. Do you remember when you voiced your ideas of peace and unification?<em>  
><em>I think that you've had it right all along. I must endeavour to stop fighting. Besides, I know that it worries you... I am very sorry. <em>  
><em>I'm sure that by now you would have grown quite a bit, I hope that I will be able to visit you soon, although I can't at the moment for<em>  
><em>obvious reasons. <em>  
><em>The reason I am writing this is to tell you to stay strong, because I know that you are a country capable of great things. I am extremely <em>  
><em>proud of you, America. You really are the most precious thing to me, my amazing brother. Never forget that I care for you very much.<em>  
><em>Please take care of yourself,<em>

_Your Big Brother, England._

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 506-_

_I only just received a letter from England. It's dated from about three moths ago as it takes a while to send any sort of mail. I'm sure that he wrote it with intentions__  
><em>of ending the war he was currently involved in. However, it hasn't ended. I worry so much, and it kills me. With this letter, I know that he was fine three months ago... but what about now?<em>  
><em>Are you okay England? Please tell me that you are. I actually have a confession to make, when I read your letter... I got slightly annoyed. However, I am unable to say why.<em>  
><em>Normally, I'd be so happy to receive a letter from you, and I really was... but then I read it. I wonder if you could explain it to me, why I got<em>  
><em>so annoyed when you called me a 'precious brother.' After all, I am your brother, and when I was younger that would have made me so happy.<em>  
><em>So why do I feel so irritated now? Why do I feel that simply being your 'brother' isn't enough?<em>  
><em>I'm sure that I just feel this way due to lack of sleep, I really have been worrying about you. I guess things will be back to normal when I see you again... right?<em>  
><em>But still, why can't I shake the feeling that I want to be something... more to you? Surely just being able to be your brother should be enough...<em>_

x~x~x~x~x

I can't sleep.

No matter how hard I try, sleep just refuses to take a hold of me. I'm much to busy thinking about the war I'm currently involved in. Initially, it was only supposed to take a matter of months, but somehow it has dragged on into its third year. To be brutally honest, I could have wrapped this up ages ago with a victory, but ever since what Spain said... I woke up. It is not fair for me to just endanger my own men, and so I've had to devise new strategies that contradict my usual all-out offensive. It really is hard trying to deal damage to someone without hurting yourself as well.

Of course, my crew members are more than willing to blindly obey my every command, but I cannot betray their trust. I have come to understand that being utterly careless all for the sake of a few dumb thrills is pathetic.  
>Recently, I've been turning over the concept of peace in my head. The more I think about it, the more appealing it becomes. Sadly, there is still the odd occasion when I lose myself in the fight, and become needlessly careless, endangering people. I guess that old habits die hard.<p>

I sigh, rolling over in my bed in an attempt to find a more comfortable sleeping position. Then, I hear something. A creaking noise; followed by a sudden cool breeze.

The door.

Someone has just opened the door to my cabin. There's no way the wind could have forced it open, as it isn't strong enough for that. I sit up, blinking in the darkness and trying to adjust my vision. It is most unusual for one of my crew members to bother me this late at night.

"Who's there?" I asked, waiting for a response. I never got one.  
>This began to annoy me; I didn't have time for this. All I want to do is sleep.<br>"Oi! Who's there?" I call out more forcefully. Again, I never received a reply.

Suddenly a bright streak of silver is before me, temporarily blinding me. It was then that the pain started. An excruciating agony shot up my left arm, effectively doubling me over. I let out a pained gasp. Just what the hell is going on?

The door to my cabin is fully open now, and as the moonlight streaks in I can see the blood pooling from my arm.

I guess I should hand it to France and Spain, an assassin... well played. And the bastard cut deep as well, the pain still refuses to subside.  
>There was another streak of silver as the assassin attempted to wound me with his blade once more, but I just about managed to dodge out of the way, neatly grabbing the pistol that I kept under my pillow.<p>

"Heh, alright then. You wanna play? Let's play," I breathed.

It was hard to see in my room; all I had was the moonlight to see by. Although, whoever it was in my cabin was exactly the same. This would be interesting.  
>I was vaguely aware of my heart beat racing. This is bad; I'm going to get carried away again. But at the moment, I don't care. I have to take care of this assassin character. He's clearly skilled, after all he managed to get past all of the crew members on lookout.<p>

I wait, expecting another attack from my opponent. However, nothing happens.  
>I see, he's waiting for me to lose enough blood for me to become light headed and eventually pass out. He wouldn't have to wait long either, I already don't feel steady on my feet.<p>

What should I do? I need to end this, but I can't see. That, and the fact that the pain in my arm is beginning to become unbearable.

I decide to take a blind shot.  
>Of course it didn't hit, but I heard whomever it was that attacked me let out a small, panicked gasp. He got careless then, and I was aware of a faint shuffling to my right.<br>I fired another shot, and then another.

Bulls-eye.

A pained scream rang out, and when I went to inspect the damage I saw that the bullet had gone through the assassins leg. His face was covered up and he was dressed completely in black, but I could see enough by the moonlight to know that he would no longer pose a threat.

I had two options now: I could take this man and make him a prisoner, or I could just kill him right now. The old me would have opted for the latter, but perhaps it really was time to practice this whole peace thing.

I had just about managed to tie the assailant up, when I blacked out from blood loss.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 793-_

_Today, I heard that England was in a dominant position in the war. They reckon it'll take about a month or so before he finally wins.__  
><em>I wish that meant that he could come over, but he has to deal with all the affairs that come after a war. I honestly have no idea when I'll see him again.<em>  
><em>I've been feeling strange recently. Things... aren't right. I was flipping through the pages of my journal earlier and I seem to keep saying one thing all the time:<em>  
><em>I love England.<em>  
><em>Sure, it's natural to love your brother, it's natural to be worried about him when he's at war, it's natural to miss him when he's away... But is it natural to get annoyed at the<em>  
><em>thought of him only loving me as a brother? I mean, what else is there? In the fairytales, they always go on about love and happy endings... but I don't know if I'm happy as his brother anymore.<em>  
><em>There surely has to be a key moment when I started to feel like this, but I can't for the life of me find it.<em>  
><em>Hey England, please come and see me soon. I have so many questions, and I think that being able to see you will give me the answers.<em>_

x~x~x~x~x

"England."

"Hn?"

"Are you even paying attention?"

"Ah, no... Sorry, what are we discussing?" I look at everyone in the room apologetically; my mind really has been elsewhere lately.

"What are we going to do about France and Spain?" We were still discussing that? The war has been over for countless months now.

"Nothing."

I got a load of shocked expressions at this response.

"England! Have you gone mad? We have to assert our authority!"

"No we don't. We've already proved that we are better by winning the war, right? What is the point in punishing them further?"

"They tried to kill you!"

"I don't blame them," I said, propping my chin up on my hands due to boredom. "My behaviour up to this point has been inexcusable. Besides, it would take a lot more than a few stab wounds to kill me; I am a country after all. Do not fret, we shall have our Empire, but we will just have to go about it differently."

"England... what are you talking about?"

A small smile came to my face as I said, "Why don't we try and make our ultimate goal: peace?"

Confused voices rushed around the room, but I paid them no heed.  
>I realised on the night I injured my arm, that it was no wonder someone would want me dead. This tyrant I've become... it's pathetic. So I'd like to try and take a more refined approach from now on, and try not to lose it when I find myself in a battle. I gently run my right hand over my left arm, tracing the scar that I now have there. This battle wound that I once would have thought made me 'valiant' now holds a completely different meaning. If at all possible, I would like to try and dispense with needless casualties. It won't take that long for the scar to fade, but until it does it shall be a visual reminder of my new resolution: I think that I would like to try and put America's dream of peace into practice.<p>

America... I'll come and see you soon, brother. I'm sure that you've grown up so much since we last met, I can't wait to see what you've become.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 946-_

_England... I think I've really gone mad. Can you help me? I don't understand. _  
><em>I love you. I love you. I love you.<em>  
><em>I said that so much as a child and I meant it. But the gravity of those words... I never realised their true meaning. If I told you that I loved you now, it would be a lie.<em>  
><em>Just where did I go wrong? Why did I cross the line? I'm sick. Something is wrong with me.<em>  
><em>I must have figured it out ages ago, but I was to scared to say it.<em>  
><em>England... 'I love you' is no longer the case. I think that I may have actually... I think that it would be correct to say that...<em>  
><em>I'm <em>in_ love with you._  
><em>Please... don't hate me.<em>

x~x~x~x~x

**Well... told ya you'd see my true colours with the drama XD Sorry about that, but you knew that there were gonna be tough times ahead :( Hopefully I didn't rush the whole: Iggy deciding to change and America's new feelings :/ So... how will Iggy's resolve to try and become a gentlemen turn out? And what will become of America's feelings? Please keep reading my fic to find out, and look out for updates~ As always, your reviews make me super happy ^_^**  
><strong>Thank you so much for reading this :D<strong>

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	6. Brother Complex

**Hello there everyone~! A huge thank you to all of you who reviewed/favourited/alerted etc. you guys are the best ^_^**  
><strong>So, we is back with more from our two favourite nations :)<strong>  
><strong>Disclaimer: Really? Do you honestly think I own this? No.<strong>  
><strong>Contains: USxUK shounen-aiyaoi, probably a bit more than in previous chappys**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Six- Brother Complex

_-Entry 1132-_

_Everyone's excited because they just got word that England is coming over for a visit. If this were like any normal time, then I'd be excited too._  
><em>However, I'm nervous. I'm so nervous that I feel sick. What should I say? What should I do?<em>  
><em>I guess my only choice is to just act like everything's normal, I'm sure I can manage that.<em>  
><em>To tell the truth, I'm hoping that when I can finally see England, I'll realise that these weird feelings I have were simply brought on because I missed him.<em>  
><em>Perhaps when I see him I'll think, "Oh thank God! He's just the same as ever! My big brother..."<em>  
><em>I hope that's the case. I don't know what I'd do otherwise.<em>

x~x~x~x~x

It's amazing. After all of this time, I can still tell _exactly_ when England is here.

There wasn't any need for anyone to inform me of his ship arriving, because it was around lunch time that I got the usual feeling that shouted, "Hey! England's here!"  
>I take a deep breath. I have to be very careful about how I go about things from here on out. Okay, so the plan is to just act normal and hope that my emotions will revert back to how I'm <em>supposed <em>to feel about England.

I get up from where I was sat down and head towards the door, in a bid to meet England like I usually do as he comes up the path to my house.

_"Remember, he is your brother. Your BROTHER! Act like you normally do."_

This was what I was chanting in my head as I made my way up the path, on the look out for England. It was only a matter of seconds before I could see a figure in the distance.

That's him; I just know it is.

"Hey! England!" I yell, sprinting off so that I could see him sooner. Just how long has it been now? It's been _years_, I know that much. I've waited much too long for him to come and visit me, so I'll do my best to not screw things up!

I called out to my brother again when I was at a closer proximity, and he looked up in response. When I was within hearing distance of him, I heard him stutter:

"Ah! A-America?" He stared at me in disbelief, his beautiful emerald eyes scanning me to make sure that I actually was who he thought I was.

I nod happily, "Hi England!"

"You... You've grown up so much..." he said quietly, his mouth staying slightly open to convey his shock.

I grinned proudly, "Thanks!"  
>Now right before me, I took the opportunity to admi- <em>look <em>at England. I really had managed to grow taller than him, not by much but I was still taller. It was kinda weird actually. This whole time I've always literally had to look up to him; he always seemed so _big_. But now, looking more closely, he isn't. It must have been because I was a child that I never noticed just how fragile England was, how slender he was, and just how utterly captivating he was... Urgh, this is so bad! I can't afford to think like this!

"I'm sorry that it's been so long since I came to visit," he said, a sad tone to his voice. He looked at me, silently begging for forgiveness, which of course I was more than willing to give.  
>"It's okay, I understand," I said comfortingly, hugging him the way I used to when I was little. Only, it wasn't like when I was little at all.<p>

Back then whenever we hugged it would always be me fitting into England's arms, but now it's all been completely reversed. This time, it's England who fits in my arms, almost perfectly. I feel his warm breath brush again my neck, and I can't help but shiver. Perhaps I should have thought about hugging him _after_ I'd returned to normal, because right now... I really don't trust myself.

It was just as I was contemplating pulling away to make sure that I didn't do anything reckless, that I hear England laugh softly and put his arms around me.

"You really have grown up so much," he breathed, "I never expected you to be taller than me just yet." Although I couldn't see his face I knew that he had a small, amused smile gracing his lips as he said, "I guess people may start mistaking _you _as the older brother."

Of course: Brother. It shouldn't annoy me to be labelled as a brother, yet it does. England doesn't see me as anything other than a sibling, and why should he? But it is precisely that, that's had me so damn confused recently.

I pull away when I hear that, unable to hide the annoyance displayed on my face.

"America?" Those mesmerising emerald orbs were looking at me with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Oh... uh..." Damn! Don't blow it! Just endure and things will get better! Well, that's what I've been telling myself for countless months now and so far it's turned out to be little more than wishful thinking.  
>I just about manage to pull it together and manage to act the way I would have done should these circumstances be the same as previous ones.<p>

"You've been away for _ages!_" I pouted, "And so to make it up to me, you need to cook something!"

England paused before smiling. "Understood," he said happily before proceeding down the path.

"Ah! Hey, wait up England!" I called as I ran after him.

"You may have grown up physically but mentally you're still a child," he chuckled warmly.

I just gave usual protests to this remark, but secretly I was thrilled.  
>The less he knows, the better. I wonder just what he'd think if he knew about all of the stuff that's been on my mind lately? 'Mentally I'm still a child' huh? Trust me brother, you couldn't be more wrong.<p>

x~x~x~x~x

"So, what would you like me to make?" England asked as we stepped though the front door.

"Scones! Scones! Scones! Scones!" I chanted as he removed his suit jacket and hung it up neatly on the coat stand.

"Got it," he said happily, smiling. Ever since I first met England, I've always loved his smile. Way back when, the first time I saw him he was actually frowning. He looked upset and troubled. I had thought to myself back then, 'I wonder if he ever smiles?' When he finally did smile, I was awe struck; it was like he was a totally different person. Ever since then, I always did my best to make sure that my brother was always happy, always smiling. This is yet another reason why I should just hurry up and go _normal _again!

At some point during my thought process, England must have wandered off without my noticing, because it wasn't long before I heard a call from the kitchen. "Hey America! Where do you store your apron?"

"Oh, it's on the side!" I answered, making my way to the kitchen to retrieve it if need be. The need didn't need to be as it turned out, because as I entered the culinary room England was already clad in the apron and busily going about making the food. "Oh, do you need any help?" I asked.

"No need, but thank you for offering."

"Well, let me know if there's anything," I said, sitting down on one of the chairs in the room. I was content to just stay there for a while, watching my brother gather the necessary ingredients and utensils for making scones, and losing myself in my thoughts. I began absentmindedly twirling a strand of my hair around my index finger, not really paying much attention to anything after a while.

"America," England snapped me out of my daydream, "The bowls have moved..."

"Ah, yeah. They should be here," I made my way over to a cupboard and when I opened it, the items in question were inside. I took a medium sized bowl out and offered it to my brother.

"Thank you," he said, rolling up the sleeves on his blouse and moving to take the bowl from me, "Time to mix the ingredients."

"Wait."

"Hn?" England looked up at me when I refused to hand him the bowl. "America?"

I didn't answer, merely kept my eyes fixated on one particular place. Now that he had rolled his sleeves up, I could plainly see...

"What... what happened there?" I asked quietly, putting the bowl to one side.

"I'm sorry, what are you referring to?" England really did seem to not understand what I was getting at, so I slowly brought my hand up to run along his left arm.

"What happened here?" I didn't look into his eyes; I was too focused on the scar that tarnished England's otherwise flawless skin. It's pretty hard to scar a country, and so whoever did this must have cut very deep. It must have been so painful... "What happened?" I asked again when I got no reply, a little louder this time.

England sighed. "This is the result of my own stupidity," was all he said, before moving his arm away from my touch.

That wasn't an adequate enough answer for me. I grabbed hold of his left arm once more, but did the motion as gently as I could so as not to put pressure on a point that could still, potentially, be sensitive and painful.  
>"Who did this?" The tone of my voice shocked me, I had no idea I could sound so... <em>cold<em>. But I couldn't help it; someone had harmed England. I mean, of course I know that he was in a war, but even still... I can't forgive anyone who'd hurt him.

Apparently, my tone of voice seemed to have surprised England as well, because his eyes widened slightly. He quickly composed himself however, and asked, "America? Are you okay?"

"Please just answer my question," I said, my voice slightly raised, desperation becoming evident in my tone. This is bad...

"Such matters as these... are of none of your concern." He looked down as he said this, refusing to look at me.

"What the hell? It's 'none of my concern'? How isn't it any of my concern? Why do you always keep me in the dark?" I subconsciously tightened my grip on his arm, my voice picking up volume rapidly. This is really bad! Stop dammit!

"A-Ameri-"

"Why do you never tell me anything? You try and keep me in some perfect bubble, separate from everything, and I'm sick of it! Why won't you just tell me?" What the heck am I doing? Why am I getting so worked up?

He looked at me then, right in the eyes. "I only do this to protect you," he said firmly, truly believing this statement.

"England..." I let go of him, but I held his gaze, "I am not a little kid anymore. Please realise that. I do not need protecting."

"This world is not as it first appears to be," he said earnestly, a small frown forming. "I do not keep you from world affairs to spite you, it is to assure your safety. As your brother, I-"

"Don't say it!" I practically yell, covering my ears childishly. I don't want to hear it, I don't want him telling me how immature I am, how I don't understand anything. I don't want there to be this huge rift between us. "Am I just a brother to you?" I ask bitterly.

"What?" he asked, his tone clearly conveying the fact that he thought this was a ludicrous question. "What do you mean by 'just a brother'? You are my brother, yes, but... but you really are the most precious thing to me America." His voice was soft, the same voice he used whenever I was in a strop when I was little. He made to stroke my hair, but I brushed him aside.

'Precious'. His precious little brother. If I don't do something soon, then that is all I will be seen as.

"America, please don't ever doubt the fact that I care for you very much. I love you."

Yeah, I know he loves me. But he loves me as a brother. His love and my love... just when did they become so different? Why am I not content now like I was back then? Perhaps this is just me being selfish but... I want England all to myself.

God, this is all so messed up...

x~x~x~x~x

"Do you like it?" England asked, watching my reaction carefully.

"Huh? What's with the suit?" I unfold the garment in question and hold it up to myself. "Woah! This looks way too expensive England! Too bad I'll never wear it... you should give it to someone else."

"Don't be ridiculous, dressing like a pauper isn't in fashion. Why don't you try it on?"

I move in front of the mirror, still holding the suit up against myself. I pulled a face as I said; "I don't see what's wrong with how I dress at the moment."

We were currently in my room, and England had just returned from a trip to the town. While he was there, he seemed to have purchased a suit for me, but to be brutally honest: I don't like dressing all formal like he does. Wearing suits and similar garments just isn't comfortable.  
>It's been a couple of days since my outburst in the kitchen, and we are both trying to dodge the issue and pretend it never happened. England seems his usual, calm self... I guess that it's easier if we just don't speak of it.<p>

I peer in the mirror once more; the suit really does look expensive.

"Please try it on at least," he said, "I refuse to be seen with you if you keep dressing in scruffy attire."

I sighed in defeat, "Fine. I'll try it on okay?"

He beamed before leaving the room so that I could change.

As I carelessly tossed my own clothes to the side and began to try and figure out all the various buttons and ties on the suit, my mind began to wander.  
>Is it really okay if we don't talk about what happened? Not talking about it is the same as pretending it never happened, and if we pretend that it never happened then England will always see me as some little kid that needs protecting. What can I do to make him see that I've grown up?<p>

I take a look in the mirror once I'm relatively sure that I'm wearing the suit correctly. Well I certainly _look _grown up, especially wearing this. But for whatever reason, I seem to look better in casual clothes.

"Are you ready yet?" England called from outside of my room.

"Yeah, but I don't think I suit this kind of thing," I said as he walked back in.

"Nonsense, I think it suits you perfectly," he looked me up and down and nodded his approval.

"Really?" I asked, sure that he was just being polite. "Well then I guess I'll just wearing it on formal occasions."

"If you insist," he sighed, "Although it really is becoming of a gentlemen to wear decent clothes regularly."

I pouted, "I don't dress _that _badly!"

He laughed softly as he said, "Well at least you know how to wear a suit. Although..." he moved closer to me until he was right in front of me. "Your bow tie is crooked. The trick is to tie it like so." He reached up and began to sort my bow tie out; I never was good at doing them up well.  
>He's really close... I can feel my heart beating faster and all of a sudden, my throat has gone dry. I stand perfectly still, doing my best to not make any sudden movements. England doesn't seem to notice my sudden inanimate state and carries on sorting out the bow tie, completely oblivious to the dark thoughts surfacing in my mind.<p>

We are in my room... England is _this _close to me... I wonder what he'd do if I-

"And that is how to do it," he said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked down to the now perfect bow around my neck, then at England who is smiling at me and looking at me in such a way that makes my heart beat faster still, yet annoys me at the same time.

I can see the adoration in his stunning eyes, but that's because he adores me as a brother. If only he'd gaze at me the way that I've started to gaze upon him... but that would never happen. Yet I can't help but wonder how things would turn out if he knew how I felt.  
>Before I even realised it, I'd pulled my brother into a hug.<p>

"America?" he asked, slightly confused.

I held him as close to me as I could, trying to memorise the feeling of having England in my arms, taking in his scent, trying to make sure that I remember everything about him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, managing to pull back and inspect my face.

He looks concerned, his lips frowning slightly. Those soft lips that are only a few centimetres away from my own. What I would give if I could just close the distance between us... what would happen if I crossed the line?

I looked down sharply. Just what am I doing? Why am I acting like this? This is bad, so very bad! And yet these overwhelming feelings within me refuse to subside.

"I'm fine!" I said, but my voice cracked and I sounded all high pitched. It was such an obvious lie, but I refused to let England question me because I pulled away and practically ran out of the room. I heard him call after me, but I didn't stop or reply. I had to get away for a bit, just to try and sort things out. I hoped that being able to see England would help me realise that these feelings were just a manifestation of my missing him, but it seems that they mean so much more.

I reach the front door and exit my house without a second thought, with no idea of where I was going whatsoever.

The fresh air I am met with has a slightly soothing effect. I inhale deeply with my eyes closed, willing my brain to figure something out.

The only thing I know is that things can't continue on like this.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 1135-_

_I'm sure that England suspects something; I've been acting so weird for the few days that he's been here. My feelings are becoming worse; I can't ignore them._  
><em>I'm scared that I'll do something reckless and stupid, and then England will hate me.<em>  
><em>Why can't I just be happy with him as my brother? Why has everything turned out this way? Does this mean that we'll never get that happy ending I was so sure we'd get back when I was a little kid?<em>  
><em>He's been here for about a week now, and in that short space of time I have come to realise that I truly cannot carry on as his brother. <em>  
><em>I don't know what will become of this, but I have to make England see me an equal. I can't stand the thought of being seen as a 'brother' forever. I have to take some form of action.<em>

I let out a huge sigh once I'd completed this particular entry. England was currently out at some meeting or another with the English noblemen who set up the colonies here. I have no idea what they are discussing, although thinking about it logically: shouldn't I be at those meetings? But ever since I was little, England has always taken care of things for me, come up with the laws of my land, and protected me.

That has to end.

I don't need his protection; I don't need him telling me what to do. The longer I carry on allowing him to babysit me, the more his idea of me being his brother will fix itself into place. I have to stop being his brother; I have to become his equal.

But I have no idea how to achieve that.

I heard the front door open and close, and England announcing that he was back. I took a deep breath and went to meet him. I don't plan on telling him my resolve just yet, because I'll have to come up with a plausible reason as to why I don't want to be his brother anymore. If I just say it, he either won't take me seriously or it'll just make us grow further apart; that's the last thing I want to happen.

"Welcome back," I said when I saw him.

He smiled and nodded, putting his suit jacket on its usual hook on the coat stand.

"How was the meeting?" I asked.

His facial expression changed momentarily when I said that. He seemed pensive all of a sudden, and he was frowning.  
>Had something happened?<br>However, he quickly masked the expression and casually said, "It was nothing special."

"Did something happen?" I pressed, knowing my brother too well. I could tell that something was bothering him.

He looked at me, before walking over slowly and ruffling my hair.

"England?" He looked upset all of a sudden.

Without warning, he hugged me. "I will protect you, be sure of it," he said quietly against my shoulder.

This annoyed me. I had no idea what had happened at the meeting, but I don't want him protecting me any longer.

"I'm not a little kid anymore England," I said, breaking our embrace and looking at him. "I don't need your protection."

He didn't say anything to this, just looked even more upset. I felt guilty, but I had to let him know that I was capable of taking care of myself.

"Hey, why don't you let me sit in on the next meeting?" I suggested. "It's about time I started to take more responsibility anyway."

"That will not be necessary," he said in a dismissive way, "I have everything under control. There is no need for you to get involved."

"Why not?" I asked, feeling emotions of anger welling up. I have to control myself; I can't just explode. Come on America, just calm down.

"Because your intervention is not needed, just leave everything to your big brother." How could he smile after saying that? Does he seriously not realise that I want to have a say in things now?

"Surely I need to have a say in my own nation."

"_Your_ nation?" he asked, blinking in confusion.

Oh, I see. England rules this nation, so of course he'd be confused if I claimed it was my own. I am his colony after all, even if I am his brother. The only reason I've never really felt like a colony is because England has always given me a surprising amount of freedom. However no matter how I look at it, I do not have total freedom, and so the only way I can become England's equal is to take complete control.

"England, I need to have a say about what happens. More to the point: I want the final word about what happens."

"Just what are you saying America? Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous! This has to end! I don't want to be bossed around by you anymore! I can't take it!" Oh no... I'm getting too worked up. I don't want to say it like this!

He stared at me in disbelief, and shook his head as if trying to make my words go away. He looked down at the floor as he said, "Is that what you really want?"

"What I... want?" I turned the words over in my head. What do I want? I looked at my brother, my heart beating faster, and unable to stop thoughts that I know I shouldn't be having take over.

Yeah, what do I want? England... I want to treasure you, I want to spoil you, but at the same time... I want to eat you; I want to mess you up.

I want to make you mine.

As I just stood there, trying to deal with all of these conflicting emotions, England spoke up. "America! Don't just say things when you don't understand the gravity of what it is you are actually saying!"

"Dammit! I know what it is I want but I can't act on it! At least, not yet..." my voice trailed off. I don't want this, I don't want to think like this, but there really is nothing I can do about it. I looked him directly in the eyes as I said, "I want to be your equal."

"What?" he asked, a bewildered expression washing over his features.

"You heard me. I want to be able to stand next to you as an equal. I am not a kid; you need to see that! I can't be near you like this, I can't be your brother anymore!" Crap... I didn't want to say it so suddenly...

"America... you don't mean that..." his voice was all quiet, and I could see those captivating eyes begin to well up. Of course, England had far too much pride to let any tears actually fall. I feel horrible; I've never wanted to make England cry. But it can't be helped.

"Why?" That was all he said, and there were so many answers that I could have given:

_"Because I don't trust myself anymore..."_

_"Because I love you in a way that I shouldn't..."_

_"Because I need you to start looking at me as something other than a brother..."_

_"Because I need to at least try to make you fall in love with me, and that won't happen if you're my brother..."_

However, I went with the answer that would guarantee him to finally stop believing that I wanted to be his sibling.

"Because I _hate _being your brother, and I can't stand being around you like this."

"N-No..."

"England, I want my independence!"

x~x~x~x~x

**Well I would say 'betcha didn't see that coming!' but you obviously did because this is History XD****  
><strong>So, America wants his independence... what will become of this? How will England react? Has their relationship been severed forever? Why is this beginning to sound like a soap opera plot? *cheesy music*<strong>  
><strong>Anywho in all seriousness, please review :) They make me so happy ^_^<strong>  
><strong>Thank you for reading my fic~<strong>**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	7. When It All Came Crashing Down

**Oki doki~ :D Back with another chappy ^_^****  
><strong>As the stuff going on at the moment is pretty intense, I thought that I'd write England's POV on America's outburst. So basically, this chapter is set slightly earlier on the day America declared independence. Don't worry, it should make sense once you start reading :P<strong>  
><strong>Disclaimer: *sigh* No, it ain't mine yet...<strong>  
><strong>Contains: The usual themes you've seen so far :)<strong>**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Seven- When It All Came Crashing Down

"And so if you take a look at these documents here, you can see that the economy is more than satisfactory at present."

Various documents were handed to me and I looked over them without much interest, my mind was completely elsewhere. I know that it's bad to be this aloof in a meeting, especially when that meeting is with the noblemen who set up the colonies over here, but I can't help it. How am I supposed to adequately give them guidance and assert what laws need to be enforced when I have other things plaguing my mind?

"England?" I looked up from where I was pretending to actually look at the documents.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You seem awfully distracted, it isn't like you."

Damn, so I'm making it obvious? I guess it isn't enough to just go through the motions and hope that you won't be found out to be paying absolutely no attention whatsoever.

"I am fine," I said in the most reassuring voice I could manage, looking back down to at least try and make sense of the figures I'd been handed. When I actually took notice of them, something caught my attention.  
>"Why are numbers low in this area?" I asked, pointing to a particular line. When I looked even more closely, it turned out there were quite a few lines that were below average. "Why are these areas suddenly poorer? I seem to recall all areas being fine in my last visit."<p>

The men in the room with me shifted uncomfortably in their seats, clearly knowing something that they didn't wish to divulge. Eventually one of them deigned to speak; a man named Tobias Winthrop.

"Well you see," he began carefully, "We didn't exactly want to call your attention to that just yet."

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah, well because you were so involved with wars and your own political affairs, we concluded that it would be best to monitor the situation ourselves, but..."

This was getting tedious. "Speak up already! What's going on?"

A young man by the name of Jonathon Smith answered in place of Winthrop, who seemed incapable of informing me of whatever it was. "Those areas are becoming poorer because they aren't spending any money they make wisely. Instead of investing in more machinery to help with crops, or buying more seeds and raw materials to plant, they are buying weapons."

"What?" I asked, confused. "Why on earth would they be investing in weapons?"

"Well," he hesitated before continuing, "There are small minorities that wish to cause a rebellion. Some of the people no longer wish to be an English colony and would prefer to have independence."

You have got to be kidding me, this can't be happening right? Why would they want independence? It's not as if I've been an oppressive power, in fact in light of everything I've been extremely generous in the running of this nation. Why would the people want to rebel?

"Now that you know," sighed Jonathon, "How is America? Has he said anything about wanting independence from you?"

"Not at all," I said, a slight edge of annoyance in my tone. How could he even suggest that America wanted independence from me? He is my brother; he would never do that.  
>Well... I guess it would be more accurate to say that I'd like to <em>think <em>that he would never do that. Just the mere thought of America suddenly turning around and rejecting me... that couldn't happen could it? I mean, I care about him so much, and he always says how he loves me, and always smiles around me.

No.

This time, it's been different. That's why I've been so distracted lately. I noticed straight away that something had changed when I saw him after all these years. I am not referring to the physical differences, although the fact that he is now taller than me did take me by surprise. But when he came up to me, his eyes... there was something in his eyes that I couldn't place. It was almost as if he was pained somehow, yet he would smile nevertheless.

My suspicions only grew when we were in the kitchen. We haven't mentioned the incident since then, and I hope that America hasn't picked up on the fact that it's been bothering me. Just what was all that about? I'd never seen that side of him before. And then of course he keeps telling me that he's not a little kid anymore... Could all of this be because he's simply grown sick of me?

My heart gives a painful lurch in my chest as I think that.

America is the only one I've ever cared about, how could I possibly go on if he hated me? I know that he's grown up, but despite that he's still my little brother. I vowed long ago to protect him and stand by him, so if it turns out that he doesn't want me anymore...

"America is growing everyday, England."

I am pulled out of my negative thinking when another of the noblemen speaks up. "I'm sure that you yourself have noticed it. The reason his physical form has matured so rapidly is because the borders of this nation are expanding at an alarming rate. Although the people who want to rebel are just a minority, we would do best to silence them. If word gets around, America could become a serious threat to you."

"No," I said firmly. I disregarded all of those negative thoughts and tried to reason with myself. "America wouldn't do that," I nodded, trying to reassure myself. "We have always been together, he is my brother, and America would never do anything like that."

"With all due respect," Winthrop spoke up, "I think you are being very short-sighted in this issue. You have rule over this nation, and yet you've given them a startling amount of freedom. You can not let emotions get the better of you. I know you care for your brother, but the fact of the matter is: you have been too lax. You must assert your authority in order to avoid a possible war."

War with America? Such a thing would never happen.

"I am inclined to agree," Jonathon nodded. "It is in your best interest to become mindful of America or else he could hurt you... I think our best option would be to break him."

Murmurs of agreement rushed around the small meeting room.

"Absolutely not!" I yelled, silencing them all. "I will not let any of you lay a hand on America! If any of you hurt him, it will be the last thing that you do."

"England, please just be reasonable," a rather chubby man begged. "We must not underestimate America, we only have your interests at heart. If we remove America, split this nation up so that it is more manageable, then-"

"Just stop." My voice was ice cold. How could I even contemplate hurting America? Sure, the way I've gone about raising him has been slightly unorthodox, but that isn't any reason for him to want to be independent. I can't allow anyone to cause him harm; I care too much about him. It is my duty to ensure his safety, because I love my little brother so much that I don't think I could function without him.

"Leave this situation to me," I commanded. "None of you are to harm America in any way, do you understand? My well being shall not be harmed in any way, shape or form. Unlike the rest of you, I believe in him... America would never do anything like that."

And with that, I got up and left the meeting room, intent on getting back to my little brother as soon as possible.

I believe in him... there was once a time when I believed in no one. There was once a time when the concept of trust was something I could never have. But now, I trust America more than anyone or anything.

_"Hey England! We'll always be together right?"__  
><em>"Wow! You are so cool big brother!"<em>  
><em>"England, I love you!"<em>_

I smile as I recall various memories. How could I not trust in America? He is my world, before him I had nothing. And so to hell with those wankers who think that they know everything! I know America better than anyone.  
>But really, what is up with his strange behaviour lately? Why does he get annoyed if I withhold a trivial bit of information, or look at me with pain in his eyes?<p>

America... just what is it that you're hiding from me?

x~x~x~x~x

"I'm back," I call as I open and close the door to America's house. I could hear my brother's footsteps approaching, and a warm, "Welcome back," when he saw me.

I smiled. Yes, how could I possibly doubt America? He would never betray me.  
>I hung my jacket up on the coat rack as he asked how the meeting was.<p>

The memories are still too fresh in my mind for my liking. How dare they even suggest hurting America, all because of a few insignificant people who have the delusional idea of not being a colony? They clearly don't realise how badly their nation would be affected without British guidance.

"Did something happen?" America asked.

I jumped slightly, had I been wearing my emotions on my sleeve? Did I make it obvious that something bad had happened? I looked at my brother; he looked worried. I walked over to him and ruffled his hair, the way I usually do. I couldn't help but frown: I had made America worry about me, there were those that wanted to harm him, and I can't help but wonder how badly it would hurt if he really didn't want to be with me anymore.

"England?" he asked in confusion.

I'm sorry America, it looks as though your big brother is more pathetic than he first thought...  
>I moved to put my arms around him, hugging him. It's still a surreal feeling hugging him now, he's gotten so much bigger. Yet despite his size, he is still my precious little brother...<p>

"I will protect you, be sure of it," I murmured, trying to make him see that I'll always be there for him.  
>He pushed me away then, a look of annoyance on his face. "I'm not a little kid anymore England, I don't need your protection."<p>

No... please don't say things like that America. You have no idea just how many people there are out there that would hurt you. Please just let me stay by your side and protect you, like a good brother should.

"Hey, why don't you let me sit in on the next meeting? It's about time I started to take more responsibility anyway."

Why? Why does he suddenly want to get involved? He's never had any problem with just letting me take care of things before... does he really want to become independent from me?  
>No, that can't be it. Just think rationally England, he's just curious as to how things work and maybe feels guilty making me do everything.<p>

"That will not be necessary, I have everything under control. There is no need for you to get involved."

"Why not?"

Damn, all these questions are making me nervous. Seriously, why is he so concerned all of a sudden?

_"You have been too lax. You must assert your authority..."_

I've never really treated America as anything other than a brother, but perhaps when things get like this, when the noblemen who preside over this nation get worried... perhaps I really have been too soft? At any rate, I cannot allow him to sit in on any meetings at the moment, there would be an uproar, and they would say that I am betraying my nation's interests.

"Because your intervention is not needed, just leave everything to your big brother." I smiled at him to try and reassure him, to let him know that I had no problem taking care of everything.

However, America did not smile back. His annoyance only grew, and there was an edge to his tone as he said, "Surely I need to have a say in my own nation."

"_Your_ nation?" I asked.  
>Being politically correct, it isn't his, but... but I've never really regarded it as mine either. While it is true that my Empire is growing day by day, none of those countries are anything similar to America. Yes, I have rule over this nation, but I've always been more concerned with raising America as my little brother rather than as a colony that has to obey me no matter what. Does it really matter who rules over it? But then again... if America becomes independent from me, that means that we won't be brothers anymore doesn't it? I can't allow that to happen.<p>

"England, I need to have a say about what happens. More to the point: I want the final word about what happens."

Wait... he wants the final say? Please don't tell me that they were right at the meeting! Have I made an utter fool out of myself, saying that I trust America?  
>"Just what are you saying America? Don't be ridiculous."<p>

"I'm not being ridiculous! This has to end! I don't want to be bossed around by you anymore! I can't take it!"

It has to end? No... he can't mean that!  
>I study him carefully, trying to ascertain whether or not he is being serious; if this is a joke, he's taking it much too far. When I look, I don't see anger in his eyes although that's what his tone conveys. Instead, I saw hurt and anguish in his sapphire eyes. I don't understand, something is clearly on his mind but he won't tell me what it is. Why does he look so pained? Has he really had enough of me?<p>

I shake my head to try and dispel those kinds of thoughts. It can't be true, it just can't be! But...  
>"Is that what you really want?" I asked quietly.<p>

He hesitated then, as if not expecting this question. "What I... want?" he asked, a thoughtful expression washing over his features. I just watched, waiting to hear what his response would be.  
>Surely he can't mean what he's saying, he has to be saying this because he has other things on his mind. If he would just tell me what it is then I could help him, and then everything would go back to the way things were...<p>

I saw all manner of emotions flash across my brother's face as he tried to come up with a comprehensible answer. Surely this is a sign that he isn't serious? I have to make him see that he's being ridiculous.  
>"America! Don't just say things when you don't understand the gravity of what it is you are actually saying!"<p>

"Dammit! I know what it is I want but I can't act on it! At least, not yet..." I was taken aback at this, I didn't expect him to bite back like that.  
>"I want to be your equal," he said, looking at me directly.<p>

"What?" I asked. I don't get it, where is all of this coming from? He wants to be equals? I've never really considered anything of the sort, which is to say that I've never really thought of America and me being ranked in some way. He is my brother; simple as that. So why does he seems to think that we are classed differently in some way?

"You heard me. I want to be able to stand next to you as an equal. I am not a kid; you need to see that! I can't be near you like this, I can't be your brother anymore!"

Wait... what? Did he just say... did he just say that? He can't be serious! Why is he doing this? Did I do something wrong? If I did, I'll make up for it! I'll do everything I can!  
>I looked at him, and I could tell that he was deadly serious. My heart began to ache painfully, to the point that it was nearly doubling me over. I could feel tears stinging my eyes, but I can't let them fall. I can't be seen as weak, not now.<p>

"America... you don't mean that..." I wasn't really directing that at him, I was only saying it to try and convince myself that this must be some horrible nightmare. That's right, any second now I was going to wake up and then I'll tell America about this and we can laugh about it.  
>But what is the point in deluding myself? The surroundings are far too realistic, this pain in my chest is far more real than a nightmare could convey, and America...<p>

"Why?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"Because I _hate _being your brother, and I can't stand being around you like this."

"N-No..." Please tell me that this isn't true, that this isn't happening. Without America, I have nothing, I have no one. He hates being my brother? I guess that just extends to one simple fact: America hates me. Where did I go wrong? Why does he hate me? America... please don't say that, at least allow me to fix everything...

"England, I want my independence!"

Independence...

That was when my whole world came crashing down.

x~x~x~x~x

"We have no choice but to declare war on America," Sir. Jeffry stated at the emergency meeting that was called.

"I agree," Jonathon nodded, "America may be a big nation, but it's never fought a war on a scale as big as what they are about to face. There is no way they can win."

"That is correct," agreed Sir. Jeffry, "I shall get the official declaration of war prepared then."

"Wait, England has to make that decision for himself. He is the ruler after all," Winthrop spoke up.

Everyone looked at me with concerned looks on their faces. I don't look at any of them, just keep my gaze fixed on the same spot of the wall in front of me.

It's been three days since America said that, and needless to say the noblemen aren't happy at all. Me on the other hand... I just feel numb. After a day of being in excruciating agony, the pain just disappeared and left a numbness. I feel faint, but I don't care. I haven't eaten anything since then, despite those around me commanding me to. I just don't see the point anymore: I've lost everything, so why should I even bother?

"England... do we have your permission?" Sir. Jeffry asked.

"About what?" I asked quietly and slowly, as forming words was an extreme effort in my current state.

"To declare war on America and crush the rebellion," he replied.

"War with America..." I said carefully. Those words should make me upset, why would I want to war with him? But then I remember what he said, how he actually hates me. So why not? If he hates me anyway, why should I even care?

But what's more annoying, is that I do care.

Despite everything, I don't really want to war with America. All I want to do now is just waste away.  
>Before I knew America, I was perfectly fine living in a world where I was hated, I just took everything I wanted by force and didn't think anything of it. But now that I know what it's like to feel cared about, now that I know what it's like to be loved... it's impossible for me to revert back to how I used to be.<p>

And so, if I just waste away everything will be so much easier. If I plan on relinquishing my existence, then what do I care what happens in this world anymore?

"Just do what you want," I said dismissively, summoning up enough energy to wave my hand to shoo them away.

"England, pull yourself together!" Sir. Frederick, a highly regarded man in my navy, spoke up. He was angry.  
>"I accept the fact that you are upset, but this is ridiculous! It has been days now, and you're just deteriorating! You need to eat something, you need a reason to carry on trying!"<p>

I gaze up at him with a blank expression. "My reason for trying hates me," I said bitterly.

"I don't care," he said firmly. I quirk an eyebrow at this, wondering what he's getting at.  
>"Don't think that you'll get any sympathy from me!" he shouted angrily.<p>

"Oi, watch your tone when speaking to England!" warned Sir. Jeffry.

"Just stay out of this," Sir. Frederick growled before focusing on me once more. "Listen up England, you have your own nation to think about. More than that, you have several other countries under your control, your dream of obtaining an Empire has practically come to fruition, you just need one more little push!"

"So what?" I asked, slumping back into my chair, "I couldn't care less about that anymore."

"God dammit!" he practically snarled, walking over to me and yanking me out of my chair by my collar.  
>Winthrop and Jonathon moved to stop him, but Sir. Jeffry stopped them. He clearly wanted to see what would become of this. I personally didn't care what happened.<p>

"Heh, if you want to kill me then there's a pistol in the drawer over there," I nodded in the direction of a desk in the corner of the room.

"Don't you _dare _think that death is the way out!" he shouted, deafening me. "You're pathetic!"  
>I simply nod to this statement to show that I agreed, which seemed to annoy him further.<br>He yanked on my collar harder, "This isn't you at all! Stop lying around like some spineless coward! So you lost your 'precious little brother'," he said that in a mocking voice, before resuming the yelling, "But so what? You are Captain Kirkland: Ruler of the seven seas, a heartless pirate who would never let something like this get in his way!"

I merely stared at him before sighing, "I've given up on that. Screw the Empire, screw piracy, just screw everything. Now if you won't kill me, at least hand me the pistol."  
>He visibly snapped at this, letting go of me so that I tumbled back into my chair. He stomped over to the desk, retrieved the weapon in question, and thrust it into my lap.<p>

"Fine, kill yourself. See if I care," he said coldly. The other three men in the room looked extremely worried and shocked then, but Sir. Frederick refused to let any of them take the pistol away from me.  
>He looked at me and said icily, "You are pathetic. No wonder America wanted to be independent from you."<p>

"What?" I asked quietly.

His eyes widened slightly, and a smirk came to his face when he heard me ask that. "You heard me," he said, "It isn't any wonder America wanted to get the hell away from you."

"No," I frowned, "You're wrong."

"Oh am I?" he pressed, "Because if I were him, I definitely wouldn't want anything to do with you."

"Tch," I twitched a bit at those words. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" I asked, my voice raising and anger coming through in my tone.

"A pathetic coward," he replied, his smirk growing bigger.

"'A pathetic coward'?" I repeated slowly, before looking up and challenging him with, "So you are calling your own captain a pathetic coward?"

"I thought you'd given up on being a captain."

"Maybe so, but that isn't any reason for you to bad mouth me you bastard!" I yelled, shocking myself. All of a sudden, the numbness seemed to subside and I rose from my chair. How dare he speak to me like that? I am England, so what gives him the right to be all high and mighty?

"Of course it is, a man who gives up on life just because of one little setback isn't a man at all!"

"Oh I'll show you how much of a man I am you wanker!" I yelled, grabbing him by his collar. "Can't you see that I'm grieving? So why the bloody hell don't you show some damn sympathy!"

"Heh... welcome back, Captain," he said.

I stopped then, and gasped. I was back, I could feel, I was aware of my surroundings. There was also a pain in my chest, no doubt in my mind what the cause of that was.

"Now that you seem to be back to normal," Sir. Frederick grinned and saluted, "What are my orders?"

I stood there silently for a moment, and so he took the opportunity to say, "I mean, are you _really _going to let your colony get away with this?"

I had to make a decision then. I had two options: go back into a partially comatose state, pining after America before I eventually ended it all, or go to war.  
>If I chose the latter, I guess it would be the same as before right? If I could just get into a war, then I would lose myself in it, and there would be no need for me to have any of these painful emotions that plague me now. This way I am still being loyal to my country, and to my increasing Empire.<p>

A war with America... something about it still doesn't seem right, but a war is a war. There's nothing for it now, I don't want to go back to being pathetic. I was a fool to let myself get carried away with the idea of having a little brother; I was an idiot for actually believing in this thing called 'love'. So I'll do what I did when I was a child, and lock up my memories, and lose myself in war.

"Well then, I can't let my name be synonymous with pathetic now can I?" I asked. "And so I, England, declare war upon America!"

This aching in my chest... I wonder if it will go away soon?

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 1142-_

_I can't believe it... everything is so messed up. First I blurt out everything to England, but I said it all wrong! I never intended to say it like that! And now... now we're at war.__  
><em>How did it all end up like this? Why does is have to be like this? I don't want to fight a war against England! I love England; I don't want to hurt him!<em>  
><em>But... but this is over my freedom. If I want a reasonable shot at being able to be his equal, if I want any reasonable shot at making him fall for me... I have to win.<em>  
><em>If I get my independence, he'll have no choice but to look at me differently. So England, I really don't want to fight you, but you leave me no choice this time.<em>  
><em>England... I love you.<em>_

x~x~x~x~x

**Oh dear lord, these two should just go on Jeremy Kyle or something XD Oh the drama, and we have a war coming up! O_O****  
><strong>And Nightshade974 was totally right: America's journal is freaking huge XD Kinda lost track of that, so I shall now invent a (stupid) reason as to why the diary is so long: England cast a spell on the journal so that it would always have pages! :D Yeah... pathetic reason but it'll have to do :P<strong>  
><strong>So thank you all so much for reading this, and please review cuz it doesn't take that long and they put a big smile on my face ^_^<strong>**

**Until next time~**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	8. Severing The Ties

**Hey there everyone~! :) Sorry for the kinda late update, but school has been SWAMPING me with work -.-  
>So... the revolutionary war. This is gonna be depressing to write, I wish I could just skip it and give these two a happy ending or something straight away! However, that's not how things went, so it is not how it shall be in this fic : Ah well, let's see how they deal with warring with each other.  
>Disclaimer: I own nothing but the fic :)<br>Just To Say: As is probably blatantly obvious by this point, I is English. As this is the case, I have not studied anything to do with American History, so all I've had to go on for this war is Hetalia and Wikipedia XD So I'm sorry if this war isn't 100% accurate but I'll do my best!**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Eight- Severing The Ties

"Fire the cannons now!"

"But Captain... firing any more than we are is overkill and-"

"Are you going against a direct order?" I narrow my eyes at the grunt that _dares _defy me. He pales at this, and rushes off to prep more cannons to fire at the target. It is only a few minutes later that even more euphoric sounds of heavy cannon blasts followed by screaming from the enemy are heard.

"Division one, cross onto enemy ships and serve as a distraction!" I yelled, while motioning for divisions two and three to follow me (leaving four behind to man our own ships).

"On the land now!" I commanded, leaping over the side of the ship to land in the shallow waters we had ended up in. A few startled members of the resistance attempted to fire their muskets at my crew and me, but as these men are farmers by day they are awful at utilising their weapons accurately, and so served no threat whatsoever.

"Eliminate them," I said coldly, aiming my pistol at a random man who just so happened to be in my line of fire. I didn't miss, I never do. The now lifeless body fell to the ground. The men on my side did something similar, pulling out their pistols or running up close range to use their sabres to deadly effect. We made light work of them, and it wasn't long before the men I had brought with me had joined the rest of us on land.

"Job well done Captain!" cheered the crew, but I wasn't smiling, or smirking, or feeling the least bit glad about what we had just done.

I don't understand. We are already a year into this blasted war that I have no desire to fight in the first place, and I have failed to become fully immersed in it. Why? Why can't I just let war envelop me like so many times before now? Why do I not get the same adrenaline rush? Why does this all seem so... wrong?

"Captain, I have just received news from Sir. Frederick," a man with scraggly hair comes up to inform me. "He sends word of our victory at points A though E, and wishes to discuss where we go from here."

"Understood," I said blankly, proceeding to command my crew to board the ships once again (leaving behind division three to hold the ground we had just captured) in order to meet up with my other fleets.

It only took the duration of the next two days for me to meet up with the usual commanders and noblemen.

"England, we have successfully captured all coastal parts of America at top notch speed," Sir. Jeffry smiled.

"Well naturally," I said, as if I was just discussing something that didn't interest me at all, "It was stupid of the colonists to think that they could possibly rival us when it comes to naval strength." I let out a long sigh and stared into space.

"England, why don't you seem happy about the capture of these territories?" asked Sir Frederick.

I didn't answer, just shrugged while still keeping my eyes fixed on a particular spot that held nothing of real interest.

"It's clearly because of _whom _we're fighting," Jeffry whispered to him, thinking I couldn't hear them.

"You can't be serious!" Frederick exclaimed in a low voice, still trying to keep out of my earshot. "He hasn't even seen _that guy_ since we started this war, he's been out at sea capturing the coastal areas and not in the countryside where _he _is fighting."

It's true. I haven't seen my br- _America_, since the start of this conflict. I have no idea if I even _want _to see him, part of me thinks that I would just fall apart completely if I did. The way I am right now, acting all composed albeit aloof, is just an act. The truth is, I have to concentrate so hard on not constantly shaking, or feeling sick... I don't understand why this hurts so much. Why can't I just move on already, and just hurry up and win this war?

"The countryside is the next place we need to concentrate on," I say, taking my eyes off that fixed place and turning to face the other gentlemen in the room. "Being an island nation, it is no surprise that our navy is stronger than our land army, so do not expect us to be able to take the land as quickly as we took seaside areas and port towns."

"Heh, no need to worry England. America have never fought a war this serious before, they couldn't possibly stand a chance."

"I guess you're right," I agreed half heartedly, "But we would be very stupid indeed to underestimate America."

I recalled the fire in his eyes when he declared his independence, the sheer look of determination about him. I do not know what caused the sudden change within him, but I know him well enough to know that once he sets his mind on something, he will do his utmost to achieve it. How ironic is it, that it was always me telling him to fight for his dreams and not let anyone stand in his way, yet here I am doing everything within my power to crush him?

Why the hell has all of this become so bloody complicated?

"Ah, England?" Jonathon piped up. "There's still the issue of France and Spain to deal with."

"Tch, those bastards," I mutter under my breath.  
>It appears that, in what seems to be some half arsed attempt at ensuring my loss, they have started supplying the rebels with weapons and ammunition. I did wonder where they were getting everything from, and the mystery was finally solved about a month ago.<p>

"Never mind them for now," I said calmly, "They are not our primary enemy this time. Instead of getting caught up in needless side wars, we should just strike the cause of the problem. Gentlemen, prepare to join the rest of our forces on land. It is time for us to take the rest of this nation!"

Empty words. I don't mean any of them. I should just give up now, but one pathetic part of me is still hoping for things to go back to the way things were.

And it is that one part of me, that keeps me fighting.

x~x~x~x~x

"Damn! Seriously? They all went down _that _quickly?" I ask one of my advisers, who goes by the name of Anderson.

"I'm sorry America," he said solemnly, "But you should know better than anyone that when it comes to sea warfare, England is simply unbeatable."

Oh yeah, I know it. When I was a kid, England would always tell me all of these amazing stories about how he conquered the seas. They always seemed so unbelievably awesome, but facing that navy now... it's truly terrifying. I guess I'm not surprised that all of the coastal areas have been taken.

"How are we looking at more main land areas?" I asked.

"Well, not good but not bad either. It seems that both sides have reached a bit of an impasse, although if I had to say who had the upper hand then I'm afraid it would have to be England. We simply do not have the military capacity to fight such a strong power."

"That's not good enough!" I yell, out of desperation more than anything. "We can't lose! We just can't! If we lose, then nothing will have changed... dammit! Why do things have to be like this?"

"America, please don't get so worked up. Although things are looking grave at the moment, we still have the support of some of the European powers. If we just focus our attacks on key areas, then there is still a chance for us to get into a dominant position."

I look at Anderson warily. I have a feeling that he's just saying that, he doesn't look like he believes in what he just told me. But I need to carry on hoping, if I just give up now then there really is no point in continuing on. The whole reason I'm even in this war is because I blurted something out stupidly, without considering how to phrase it. I got myself into this mess, and now I have to pay for it. After all, if I don't win then England will never take me seriously.

I wonder why it is, that even though I'm actually at war with him, I haven't seen him this whole time? I know he's been with his fleet, but I would have expected to have seen him at least _once_. There hasn't been a single moment when he's not on my mind.

England... I wonder what you're doing right now. I wonder if you're fine with this, being at war with me, because I can tell you right now that there is nothing in this world that could be worse than me warring with you. I wonder if I'll ever get the chance to explain to you just _why _we are fighting, although you'll probably just laugh at how stupid it is. In fact, I wonder what you think this war is about anyway. Do you think it's just about me wanting independence, or have you figured out that there's something else that triggered this war?

The one scene that haunts me at night when I sleep is England's face when I told him I no longer wanted to be his brother, and I claimed my independence. Guilt always consumes me when I know that it was me who caused him to look so upset, I've never wanted to make him feel like that. England... I hope you realise that.

However, in order to love you, I'm willing to become an enemy.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 1504-_

_I guess it's been a while since I've written in this, but finally I have some good news to report! It all started at Saratoga, and a section of the British army had the area occupied.  
>As this was a key area, I gave the go ahead for our troops to try and take it. To be honest, I didn't hold out much hope, but I had to try. Ever since this war began, I've been on the defensive.<br>That all changed today though. After what seemed like a situation that would end in our loss, we somehow managed to do it- we managed a victory! It's only a small victory in the grand scheme of things,  
>but it certainly boosted morale. Now if we can just keep winning battles like this one, it won't be long until the war is ours as well. I wonder how long this fighting will continue...<br>Actually, I just remembered something. France and Spain have been supporting us in terms of weaponry and ammunition, and after France heard about our recent victory, he says he's coming over for a 'discussion'.  
>What will become of this?<em>

x~x~x~x~x

"I must admit, you 'ave put up an amiable fight against Angleterre," France said, twisting a strand of his long blonde hair around his index finger. I just sat and listened to what he had to say, because it seemed as though this could be extremely beneficial. He had arrived a few days ago, and since then we've been having frequent talks about the current state of affairs. Today though, it seemed much more serious.

"I 'ave to ask, why are you of all people fighting Angleterre? You're the last person I would have expected to face 'im." He looked at me expectantly, but I had no desire to reveal the true reasons behind everything.

"I just want me freedom," I said simply.

"Please do not underestimate me America," he said with a small smile, "I've been around long enough to know when someone is withholding information. Just what are you 'iding?" France kept a steady gaze on me, as if he was reading my innermost thoughts. It made me nervous, but I didn't show it.

"I think you must be confused, I simply want my freedom." When he didn't look convinced, I decided to opt for a lie to appease him, "Plus, I really _hate _England."

There was a moment's silence then, in which we just stared at each other. I had no idea what France was thinking, but he seemed to be puzzling something out with great focus. Suddenly a smirk graced his features as he said under his breath, "I see, so _that's _'ow it is."

I didn't even bother asking what he meant by that, but faltered when he nodded and said, "Now that we know the basics about each other, I think now would be the perfect time to team up, non?"

"Wait, what?" Did he really mean that? Is he serious?

"Don't look so surprised," he laughed quietly, "You must 'ave known I was on your side this whole time, what with the weapons dealing, oui? So why not let me aid you and fight beside you? It would certainly be advantageous to you." He got up from his seat and began walking casually around the small meeting room, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I knew he could tell that I was interested; I'd be an idiot to not seriously consider this.

If I combined my forces with France's, then the prospect of me winning is significantly increased. I was still cautious though; there really was no reason for this unexpected kindness.

"What's in it for you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

"What indeed~" he hummed tunelessly, before turning to face me with a glint in his eyes, "I just want to see Angleterre cry, to see 'im finally lose everything."

I couldn't adequately reply to this, what am I even supposed to say? I don't want to team up with someone that so openly states his hatred for England!

"What's the matter America?" France asked, in a tone much too innocent considering what he had just said, "You said you 'ated Angleterre as well, non?"

Ah, that's right. I did say that didn't I?

In the most convincing tone I could muster up, I said, "Well, yeah. Alright then, let's team up!"

I saw surprise quickly flash across his face before a smile fixed itself into place. "Excellente~"

x~x~x~x~x

"That bloody frog! I'll _kill _him!" I spat out venomously.

"England... with the inclusion of France, military strength has been more than levelled," someone began, but the glare I shot them shut them up in an instant.

"You think I don't know that? This war was in a deadlock; if America gains more military power this puts us at a disadvantage! Stupid French Bastard!"

"What about Spain? I overheard that he was also considering joining the war," Sir. Frederick said with a grave expression on his face.

"Well that's bloody brilliant, why don't they just involve the whole of Europe?" I began pacing around the room erratically, trying to just _calm down_. But how can I?

We underestimated America greatly, and so lost valuable ground in battles that we should have won with relative ease. With the addition of France and now possibly Spain... why am I even bothering? Three years of war and now this, is it even worth it?

It's just like the way things used to be, being ganged up on from all corners. That's the only logical reason I can come up with for those two wanting to join the war: they just want to spite me. Why do people naturally want to go against me? They can't blame it on my attitude; it's their bloody fault I ended up like this! Ever since I was little, all they did was pick on me. It's only natural that 'dislike' turned into 'hatred' turned into 'warring any chance we get'. Its simply ridiculous, I should just save myself the trouble and beat the shit out of them some other time when I don't feel like having an emotional breakdown.

Yet it is the cause of my possible 'emotional breakdown' that causes me to keep on fighting. No matter how hopeless this situation seems, part of me still refuses to give up on America. I wonder why that is? Is it simply because the thought of being all alone again scares me?

No, that can't be right.

I don't think any amount of words could adequately describe just how much America means to me, he isn't someone I could just simply forget about. I'm pretty sure that just giving up and putting distance between us would be the healthier option, but I simply cannot allow that. Clinging to past memories... I'm so pathetic.

"This situation is getting ridiculous," I said, stopping my mad pacing abruptly and looking at the men with me. "If you want something done right, you do it yourself. I'll just have to be present at all the major attacks to prevent us from losing more ground."

"But England, even you have limits. You cannot possibly partake in all the battles and-"

"-I don't care! We've come too far to just lose now. France or no France, this war is ours!"

I wonder if they can tell that I'm putting on an act. The truth is: I'm worried.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 1632-_

_France thinks that it's best to focus on capturing the Northern areas, because that's where more of the rebels are who are likely to join our side. England has decided to focus on the South._  
><em>He's already gained massive amounts of it. I wanted to go to the South to try and do something, but France insisted that he went instead. Perhaps that is for the best, I probably wouldn't be of much use if England were there.<em>  
><em>I have to stay focused.<em>

x~x~x~x~x

"Ohonhonhon~ I never expected to see Angleterre 'ere 'imself. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I don't have time to waste conversing with a subhuman like you!" I yelled as I pulled out my pistol, aiming to perfection and ready to pull the trigger at any given moment.

Domination of the South had definitely been the way to go, the majority of it was in my control. Plans to get the North are also being drawn up, but for now I was content with the progress we were making. However, once I received word that France had joined any resistance in the South, I came post haste.

"Those weapons are so boring~" the blonde drawled as he pretended to yawn.

"Just because you have terrible aim, beardy bastard!"

"As cold as ever Angleterre," he observed with a smirk, before looking around himself. "Look at what a mess you and your precious America 'ave created."

I glanced around quickly, taking in the 'mess' that he was referring to. Carnage was probably a more accurate word. If those in the South didn't join the British side, they were killed. Those with any sense and genuine battle skills joined me, those who didn't... well they were eliminated to put it simply. All around us were battle cries, gunshots, men that lay mortally wounded, but France and I just stood there. Perhaps we've become so used to the idea of war, that we are no longer fazed by it. Although if I'm completely honest, I have become more aware of myself. I've never experienced this sick feeling before, but it attacks me now. Just looking at what this war has become is just painful. How I wish it would just end.

"Now then, I cannot allow you to take anymore of the South," France said, brandishing a fine sword and gesturing for me to come and fight him. "Let us solve this like gentlemen and cross swords."

'Like gentlemen'? Just what about all of this is gentlemanly? It is a nice thought though, being a gentleman...

"Heh, alright then I'll humour you," I smirked as I put the pistol away and swapped it for my best sword. "Don't expect me to go down easily you wanker!"

I ran at him as fast as I could while he stood there in anticipation. A loud 'clink' sounds as metal collides for the first time, before proceeding to come together at light speed numerous times. We've often fought this way, France and I, and so these fights are often laborious, as we know each other's moves too well.

He swipes right, I dodge and bring my blade down, only to have him swiftly block it, to which I try and uppercut but he underpins the attack which has me on the defensive. It's like a brutal ballroom dance that we have perfected.

"Why are you even siding with America you bastard?" I said through gritted teeth as he very nearly landed a clean hit on my shoulder. "Surely going through all of this bullshit can't be worth simply 'taking revenge' on me or whatever ludicrous excuse you gave him!"

"You know me so well," he admitted, ducking down when I aimed my blade at his head. "In all honesty I just wanted to see 'ow long 'e could keep this up. If I'd actually let 'im take over operations in the South then I'm pretty sure 'e would 'ave crumbled just at the sight of you."

"He hates me _that _much huh?" I asked bitterly, momentarily losing my focus and nearly losing my left hand in the process. "Damn, that was close!" I breathed, pulling back for a few seconds to get my bearings before launching at the stupid frenchy again.

The annoying blonde simply laughed and easily blocked, or so he thought but I managed to trip him up. Losing his balance completely, I took the opportunity to bring my blade around in one long, powerful swipe so that it had enough force to make France let go of his weapon. It fell to the ground, and I held him in place with my sword held over his heart.

"Hn~" he hummed, as he mulled something over.

"What?" I asked coldly, wondering why he wasn't reduced to a snivelling mess.

"This is also getting to you as well," he observed, to which I protested and denied it. "In regards to America," he said cautiously, eyeing my every move so that he was sure I wouldn't suddenly strike, "I think you've got it all wrong."

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"What indeed~" he said wistfully, carefully bringing his hand up to lower the weapon I had trained on him. "I just don't think 'e 'ates you," was all he said before turning his back on me.

"Well done Angleterre, you can keep the South for now. But don't get too comfortable okay?"

And with that, he picked up his sword that had been knocked to the ground and walked off without a word.

I just stood there, in the midst of chaos, doing my best to drown out all the sounds of war around me.

America doesn't hate me? France really is more retarded than I thought. I heard it say it himself: he hates being my brother; he hates me. Yet knowing that, I still continue to fight.

It's been five years already since this war began, and if anything I feel more lost than ever before.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 1715-_

_France got Spain to declare war on England... I know this is good from a tactical point of view, but I can't help worrying about him. Now it's three against one, and those odds are bad no matter who you are._  
><em>Why has this dragged on for so long? I don't understand... I should just end this. But then all of this will have been for nothing. Damn, why couldn't I have just said what I wanted to say in a better way that time?<em>  
><em>The only reason I'm fighting is so that England will view me differently, but... but after this, I'm pretty sure that he'll hate me.<em>  
><em>England... have I completely ruined everything?<em>

x~x~x~x~x

"Victory is within our grasp, well done America! We really are on top form!" France has a huge grin on his face as he puts his hand on my shoulder. He starts to lightly shake me when I fail to give an appropriate response. "America? You know we've got the upper 'and at Yorktown right? If we keep going at this rate, then there's no way we can lose!"

I look at France wearily, and managed a weak smile. "Yeah, that's great."

"What's up with you?" he asked, moving away from me and opting to flop down onto one of the chairs in the small room we were using as a makeshift base. "You should be 'appy, non? We are close to winning a critical battle, Spain and I are getting our revenge, and you are one small step away from the freedom you've craved so badly."

"Why wouldn't you let me onto the battlefield?" I asked, looking at him directly. "This is my war, so why are you using my troops but not actually allowing _me_ to fight?"

"I 'ave let you fight," he answered in a confused tone.

"Not at Yorktown!" I raised my voice; "I know that this battle is probably what will decide everything, so why won't you let me go?"

"Because you could become a liability," he said simply. "You want your freedom, oui? But you could get really careless if you actually face Angleterre." His gaze was piercing; I couldn't bear it. I looked down and gritted my teeth, hating the fact that he had a point.

Ever since I joined up with France, I've taken care of any British forces in the North, as well as securing it. As far as things in the South were concerned, France insisted on taking responsibility. This way, I haven't had a single glimpse of England. Sure, I've come up against thousands of British soldiers, and those on his side, I've even had to fight against some of his top commanders. But as far as actually fighting England goes, I haven't had to do it.

But this isn't acceptable. If I can't manage to hold my own against England, then do I really deserve to be his equal? If I am not capable of being able to face him alone, and win, then surely everything I've strived for up until now has been a complete waste of time.

"France," I said, walking over to him, "I appreciate everything you and Spain have done for me, but-"

"-You want to try and face Angleterre on your own tomorrow, right?" He looked at me in a way that said, 'Trust me, I know everything you are thinking'. It unnerved me to say the least.

"That's right," I agreed. "This is a war between England and me. So from here on out, I want to go it alone. If I fail, then that's my own fault, but at least I'll know that I tried."

"Your words ooze with confidence, yet you're shaking," he observed. I quickly realised that he was right and tried to steady myself, but it was all to no avail. He let out a low chuckle as he said, "You know, England is just like you or me. Sure 'e is ruthless most of the time, but I'm sure that you've seen a more compassionate side of 'im." France crossed his right leg over his left and rested his elbows atop his lap, interlacing his fingers as he continued to speak. "'e is a stubborn swine, but to be fair 'e likes to carry things through to the end. All of that said, 'e is not a God, 'e is not someone that you should idolise, 'e is not as 'great' as you make 'im out to be."

I stared at him, wondering what he was actually trying to tell me. He seemed to pick up on this and so said, "Don't think that you 'ave no chance against Angleterre. Oui, 'e is amazing, but you can become 'is equal if that's what you really want. It's time for you to stop viewing Angleterre as someone you can never reach, because once you realise that 'e 'as 'is flaws, you'll be able to see that this gap you seem to think is between you is not as big as you actually perceive it to be."

There was a brief silence before France grinned and said, "Well I think big brother 'as been much too serious for one day, non? I shall respect what you want to do; I'll leave the rest up to you. Good luck America~" And with that, he got up and went to go and inform his troops that they were no longer fighting in the war and to prepare to set sail back to France as soon as possible.

Now alone in the room, I try and puzzle out everything that France had just said. Had he seen through me? All he was saying seemed to suggest that he knew I didn't really hate England. And he also said that the gap between us isn't that big... is that true? As I got older, it was almost as if England was becoming more and more distant, more unreachable. But France says that we really can stand as equals... I hope with all my heart that I'll be able to do that. It's just me in this war now; it's time to prove what I'm made of.

To be able to look at England in such a way that makes him seem not as far away, or untouchable, or great, to be able to see that over these years I have matured to someone who would be worthy of being beside him... that is what I'm wishing for.

The final battle is soon, that much is certain.

x~x~x~x~x

Informants let me know that France has pulled out of the war. Although I still have the supposed threat of Spain, I sent back sufficient ships to deal with the problem and protect the motherland. My troops have been severely depleted, and even I am ready to just give up. But upon hearing about France's departure, despite having to fight this war on my own now, there is still a tiny flicker of hope within me. I'm currently losing, that much is true. However, if it is just me against America... maybe I'll have a chance? Maybe I could talk him around and just end it while avoiding unnecessary causalities. So many have already lost their lives in these past few years.

I consult my pocket watch to get an accurate idea of just what time of day it was, because it was virtually pitch black outside. The clouds hung thick overhead, threatening to burst at any moment. It's quite fitting actually: grim weather to fit the grim mood.

Seriously, enough of this. I want this to end today.

I pull on my red battle coat, load my pistol and place it in the holster on my right hip. My sword is placed on my left. I take a deep breath, before moving to grab my musket.

"England, I'm going with you," Sir. Frederick said, attempting to move from where he lay.

"Don't be an idiot," I said stiffly, making sure the bayonet on my musket was fixed firmly in place. "You were severely wounded, you and I both know that you are unfit to fight."

"But-"

"As your Captain, I _order _you to stay put. I refuse to lose anymore men."

He was silent then, but I heard him quietly whisper, "Jeffry..." sadly to himself.

Sir. Jeffry had died in battle. He was branded as a 'war hero', but what's so heroic about dying pointlessly in a war that has completely lost his way? His life was wasted, and it's my fault. All of those that have died fighting for me, fighting for the motherland, fighting for the Empire... I've had enough of it.

"Who will aid you?" Sir. Frederick asked, knowing as well as I do that the remaining troops I had left were of little use.

"No one. I'm going alone."

"But England! You can't! You could-"

"If you want something done right, you do it yourself." That was the last thing I said before leaving the haphazard base, ready to face whatever fate awaited me.

I'll finally see America after all of this time...

As I make it out into the dark day, the first few drops of rain began to fall. Why am I not surprised?

I try and calm the sick feeling in my stomach, and hold onto my musket tightly. I do not plan on using the weapons I have, but it may get to the point where I am left with no choice. If I can't convince America to just think about going back to the way things were, then this is where they may come in useful.

It's raining full pelt by the time I reach the main battlefield, the American troops are already there and ready to fight. And there he is: America. He is heading up a group of about fifteen men, all armed with muskets. This is the first time I'm seeing America in his military attire, the sight is just too surreal. It's hard to believe that this is the same person I raised...

No! This is no time to be getting all sentimental. I have to fulfil my objective.

I walk up to the American troops with purpose, doing my best to exude confidence and show that I was not at all put off about being heavily outnumbered.

"England..."

"America," I nodded. There was a silence while we both came to terms with the situation we were in. All throughout the war, I knew that America was the enemy I was fighting. But actually being face to face with him like this... the fact that this war is between us has been cemented even further.

"This wasn't... I mean, I didn't intend..." America looked as if he was searching for the right words to explain something. I waited expectantly, but in the end he just seemed to give up, letting out a long melancholy sigh. "No matter how I try and phrase it, it always sounds wrong."

I didn't bother trying to press him about what he was on about, I was just concerned with one thing: the war. I want to end it as swiftly as possible.

"America, please... just stop this nonsense. If you'd just try and explain to me why all of this has happened, then I'm sure that-"

"Tch! All of this time and all you do is treat me like a little kid?" he looked annoyed when he heard me just trying to _reason _with him.

"I'm _attempting _to talk to you like an adult," I said, keeping my voice even.

"So you accept the fact that I am not your little brother?" he asked without missing a beat, keeping his eyes on me and watching my every reaction. Although it was only a split second, he still saw my hesitation.

"England, all I want is my freedom! I'm no longer a child, nor your little brother."

Before I even had a chance to formulate a logical counter argument to that, I was effectively silenced when once again I heard the words that were so painful to hear:

"From now on, consider me independent!"

Why does it hurt so much to hear that? Did I honestly come here expecting him to suddenly turn around and say, 'I'm so sorry. Let's just go back to how things used to be'? If so, then I really am an idiot.  
>Hearing those words is simply too much, I want them to just disappear. But they still linger around in my head, causing my ears to ring.<p>

No. I can't allow America to just leave, even though I know that I should.

"I..." I said quietly, picking up my musket slowly. "I won't allow it!" Not caring if I did get gunned down by America's reinforcements, I just ran. I closed the distance between us quickly, and as if my body was on autopilot I moved to strike with the bayonet. America just about managed to block my attack with the body of his musket, but I wouldn't give up. No matter how hard I try, I just can't let go, I can't let it end like this.  
>And so I carried on applying force, until finally America gave way and his weapon went flying out of his hands, landing on the muddy ground out of his reach.<p>

The rain continued to pelt down, so loudly that the cry of, "Ready, aim!" from the American troops was barely audible. I didn't care about them though; they wouldn't shoot as long as I had America held at gunpoint.

His eyes were fixed on the deadly weapon before him. I could see him panic, worry, and literally think 'Oh shit, this is it...'

"You idiot! Why can't you follow anything through to the end?" I didn't move the musket, and America didn't move a muscle.

Now's my chance...

Shoot him.

End it.

Forget about all the pain.

Just erase this existence.

* * *

><p><em>"England! Come play with me!"<em>

_I glance up from where I had been immersed in a novel that I had been attempting to read to America before he got restless and asked if he could go and play for a while. We were in the usual meadow, the one where we had first met. The Sun was shining, but it wasn't overwhelmingly hot because a gentle breeze swept through the long grass and brightly coloured flowers. It really was a perfect day.  
><em>

_"Can we play a game?" he asked eagerly, his sapphire eyes sparkling._

_"Oh, I'm not really the best at games..." I began, but he shook his head vigorously. _

_"No way! You're awesome at games big brother!" He moved to me and carefully took the novel away from me, setting it by my side, before grabbing my hand to pull me up._

_"It'll be fine, I wanna spend as much time with you as I can before you have to leave again."_

_I felt guilty when I heard this, I always felt horrible having to leave America on his own. But he always smiled around me and insisted that he understood why I did have to leave so often._

_I sighed in defeat before smiling. "I guess I could play a few games."_

_"Yay~! You're the best big brother, I love you!" He grinned broadly and excitedly started explaining the rules of all the games that we could play._

_We spent all day in that meadow, and played every game that we could think of..._

* * *

><p>I dropped my musket, doing my best to hold back any tears that threatened to fall. America looked at me in surprise, but he should have known that I couldn't really go through with it.<p>

"There's no way I can shoot you. I can't."

I felt so helpless in this moment; I fell to my knees and allowed myself to cry. The heavy rain that continued to fall would just mask my tears anyway.

"Why? Dammit why? It's not fair!" I hid my face from sight and refused to look at anywhere but the ground.

This is the worst. The absolute, total, complete worst.  
>In the end, I guess this was always going to be the outcome. I cannot harm America, it is something I am physically incapable of doing.<p>

America didn't say anything for a while, but I didn't look up when he eventually did speak.

"I remember... when you were great." That was all he said, and it was barely audible.

I still focused on the ground. If anything, I need to at least get some closure on this. I wiped my face as best I could, and then slowly looked up.

I locked eyes with America, and simply said one word:

"Goodbye."

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 1752-_

_"Goodbye."_  
><em>Does this mean... that I won't see you again?<em>  
><em>Does this mean that the last time I saw you; you were frowning? Crying?<em>  
><em>England... If there is a day called 'forgiveness', then I hope it will come soon.<em>  
><em>If and when that day finally comes, please, smile again.<em>

x~x~x~x~x

***slits wrists* Duuuuuuude, depressing! T_T Wah, I hate seeing them so upset :( But it had to be written I guess...  
>So, what's the next step from here? Did England mean that "Goodbye" to be forever? How will America try and deal with his newfound independence, and the loss of Iggy? Again, please review because they really make me happy, and I need to be happy after writing this depressing chapter!<strong>

**Thank you all so much for reading my fic~**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	9. Over A Century Of Solidarity

**Hello there everyone~ :) Sorry I haven't updated in a while, that is completely my fault for trying to juggle multiple fics :/ Yes, I should be shot. Anywho, I'm on break at the moment so hopefully I can focus on keeping updates regular :) Anyways, enough of my babbling, let's carry on with the story :D  
>Disclaimer: Imma stop putting these, it's so painstakingly obvious that I do not own Hetalia or any historical events :P<br>Just To Say: History is totally interesting! I've done loads of research on what events happened when, so I knew when US and UK were in conflict or allies and such, and learned so much. I'm totally becoming a History teacher when I'm older :P Btw, I'll put a kinda history overview at the end of the chappy so you know what events I'm on about :)**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Nine- Over A Century Of Solidarity

_-Entry 1914-_

_Expansion. Power. Strength.  
>These are all things that the American people wish for, and I guess I'm all for it as well. However, it's easy to say you want them but difficult to obtain them.<br>It's blatantly obvious that if we want to expand borders, we have to stay away from Europe. Staying away from Europe means staying away from England. Staying away from England means that I have absolutely no idea if and when I'll see him again.  
>I may have 'officially' won the war, but the truth is that I need to become much stronger.<br>I realised that day that, although I had made a lot of progress in terms of becoming England's equal, there was still a gap.  
>And so it looks like I'll just have to work hard and become even stronger than I am now.<em>

x~x~x~x~x

As a country, it is difficult to strike the perfect balance between what you want, and what the people want. We countries are here to serve as a sort of general consensus of the people, and we should work towards what their aims are, and working together with the monarchy or government in power is just one of many duties designated to us. Being a country is a difficult existence, because you are there from the very beginning until the very end. We have to endure the hardships of war, have to deal with economic crises, and try to stay strong no matter what obstacles are thrown in our way. However, being a country can also be extremely rewarding. When our motherland is prospering, we too prosper, whenever the public has a high morale, then our spirits are uplifted as well. We do not age in the way that humans do, yet we are capable of feeling human emotion- and that is just one of the problems of being a country.

I know full well that the people are determined to move on and just look to build an Empire elsewhere, I know full well that our current monarch, His Royal Highness King George III, is anxious to put the loss of the American colonies behind us. I, as a country, should heed what they want, and also move on.

But I am capable of feeling human emotion. I am not just an embodiment of my country, I have my own personality, and I have my own personal feelings. And so I cannot accept what the people want, because my own emotions which are much stronger within me refuse to let go. Honestly, I want to just waste away into nothingness, I want to forget everything. If only someone else could take my place... but that is not how it works. England is still a strong country, it still has other territories under its belt, it has an amazing economy... when times are like this, there is no chance of me disappearing.

And so here I am, sat on my sofa with a cup of tea, willing my existence away but being ignored. I cannot recall anything that has happened clearly anymore, even if it was something that just happened a few minutes ago, not that I know what minutes are any more. My perception of time has completely gone, I have no idea if I've been sat here for a few minutes, a few hours, or even a few _days_. It's as if time no longer exists as far as I'm concerned, which is ludicrous because all I have to do is glance out of the window to see that the world is still turning, and that life still goes on.

Sometimes, I envy people. They do not understand just how lucky they are, to not be bound to something for all eternity until it's eventual demise. They only have to worry about what they want, and because their existences are comparatively shorter than that of countries, they just go for it: they live life to the full. They know nothing of all the burdens countries carry, or of the things they have seen. For example, the people in this current time period will know nothing of the abject horror that was the Black Plague, yet I remember it clearly because I was there. As a country, you are constantly building relationships with others that are extremely ephemeral, because when they are all gone, you are still there.

Way back when, back when I was but a child, this always upset me. Whenever I made friends with animals or people, I was so happy. But then I was met with the concept of death, and I realised that no relationships that I formed would last. When the opportunity for me to make lasting relationships did arise when I finally came into contact with other countries that were just like me, all they did was attack me. And so for the majority of my entire existence that spans over several millennia, I just grew to accept the fact that I was to be alone. I didn't really feel upset about that, because you can't exactly miss the things that you never knew, but now... now that I know what it's like to have a close relationship with someone, it's hard for me to default back to how I'm so used to existing.

I take a sip of my tea... it's stone cold. I guess that means that the thought of me having been sat here for well in excess of an hour is extremely likely.  
>I sighed and got up, which in itself is such an effort at the moment. It's as though any energy, any vigour, and any hope I had are all gone. But I do not understand how I could have possibly ended up like this. When did my emotional ties to America become so deep? How could I not see that he was sick of me? How was I unable to hold onto the one thing that meant so much to me?<p>

I make it into the kitchen at an extremely slow pace, initially forgetting why I even came in here in the first place, but then remembering that I'm here to make a fresh pot of tea.

I think that it is blatantly obvious for anyone to see that I've completely given up. A few lords and ladies have been to check in on me, all of them wearing grave expressions and trying to snap me out of my slump, but it was to no avail. Several members of my crew have also come to visit me. They are all extremely worried about me and want their Captain back, but I'm just not capable of returning to them at the moment. I'm not sure when my last visitor was, but it must have been quite a while ago.

Yet England continues to work and the Empire continues to expand.

As I go about making the tea, I take note of my attire: My blouse is all creased, my trousers are in a similar state, my hair is a complete and utter mess, and... I stink. From this, I have concluded that I must have been sat on that sofa for countless days, just staring into space and being of no use whatsoever to anyone.

Seriously, how have I let it get to this?

America hates me now; I know that. All I need to do is accept that, and accept the fact that I probably won't see him again (or at least make any conscious effort to see him again), and then I should be able to move on. If I can achieve the state I was in before I met him, go back to being in splendid isolation, then everything should just continue on in the way they should. Yes, that is how it should be. I have been alive for countless years; America was simply a small chapter in my life.

Yet, it is definitely a significant chapter.

Damn, this is enough. I'm sick of feeling so depressed all of the time; I need to sort myself out. For starters, I need a bath. From there... well, another cup of tea I guess. And once I have the basics sorted, I can begin to attempt to do my proper duties as a country instead of focusing solely on my own feelings.

Yes, I shall have to do that.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 1992-_

_Wow... it really has been ages since I last wrote in this. I've been so busy with trying to get stronger, that I guess I've started to neglect other things.  
>Just the other day I thought to myself, "Why am I doing this again?"<br>To be completely honest, I think I've reached my limit. All I am doing is just getting bigger and bigger, it's starting to become unbearable.  
>I know that I am doing this so that one day I may be able to match England, but will I ever see him again? After everything that's happened... he probably wants nothing more to do with me.<em>

My eyes widened slightly as the ink on the page began to smudge, courtesy of the tears that I hadn't realised were streaming down my cheeks. This is much harder than I thought it would be. I thought that if I could just become independent, then dealing with everything in my own way would be easy. I greatly misjudged everything. I guess I didn't really appreciate all the things that England did, just the small trivial things like meeting with the higher ups and trying to come up with the best ways and methods of keeping up the economy, or how much attention to divert to which aspects of the country. It's tiring, and came as a complete shock to me.

And what makes it worse is that I know there is no chance of England ever coming around to meet me.

That is the one thing I looked forward to the most back when I was little, but now it is gone, possibly forever. Whenever I try to recall my memories of England, they are all twisted. I don't know why, but I can no longer remember what his smiling face looked like. All I see when I try and remember, is his crying face as he told me goodbye... I wonder if I'll ever see him smiling again, or if indeed I'll see him again at all.

To be honest, I don't think England misses me that much at all. Whenever I'm outside helping with agriculture, or meeting with the higher ups, or just generally walking around, all I hear is talk about how the British Empire continues to expand and is stronger than ever before. I guess that makes sense, why would everything come to a halt just because I left? Thinking logically, I was just one of many countries in the Empire, so why would England miss me when he can quite easily gain land elsewhere? The thought hurts, makes me angry... but it's probably true.

I guess that it's all my fault that I've completely lost any hope of being with England, but I'll continue to get stronger, just in case there finally comes a day when we are reunited.

x~x~x~x~x

"Your Highness," I said with as much politeness as I can manage, bowing.

"Hello England, you may rise," came the King's regal voice.

I did as I was told and rose, making sure to keep my posture perfect.

"You needn't be so stiff England," he said in an amused tone.

"Ah, I am sorry Your Highness."

He sighed, before looking at me more closely. "Are you quite alright? It has been a while since you were last here. I have received word of your... slight decline. Is everything better now?"

"Yes, I apologise for making you and the aristocracy worry about me. As I country, I should have remained objective instead of letting trivial feelings render me useless for so long."

"England... I know that losing America has taken a toll on you. For that, I am truly sorry. But your country needs you."

"Yes, and I am ready to perform my duties."  
>I really mean that. I am hardly back to how I used to be, but I realised that drowning in my own self pity is no way for a country to behave. The people wish to have an Empire, to be stronger, to reach a state where nothing and no one can touch us. And I want that as well, to be in some impenetrable bubble where nothing can get to me. And so I am ready to fight to obtain that, ready to fight for my King and country, and I am ready to put the past behind me. Whether or not I'll ever be able to completely recover from the America incident is currently unknown to me, but I can at least use what happened as a device to drive me to become stronger. Not once have I experienced such strong emotions like these, and I have taken the mind set that if I can overcome them then I will become stronger.<p>

"England, at present the French are presenting a possible threat to us. I am sure that you are already aware of this, but I would like you to understand that we are to war with them. We cannot allow them to become any stronger, for they are just across the Channel and could prove extremely dangerous if we do not take action immediately."

Ah, of course. I knew that something like this was likely to happen. The beardy bastard has a new boss who goes by the name of Napoleon something or other. It's rather shocking at just how much stronger he has become, and people in my home country are beginning to worry.

And so it's time for things to go back to normal: me striving for an Empire and perfect isolation, fighting the stupid frog, and not allowing needless emotions to hurt me.

x~x~x~x~x

"W-What?" I shook my head in disbelief, refusing to believe what I just heard.

"A war with England," the President repeated, "We have no choice."

"Y-You can't be serious... a war?" I was still having trouble getting my head around the idea.

"We have no choice America, the English are oppressing us and the people wish to go to war."

"But... but we can't!" I protested bitterly.  
>No! I don't want to war with England again; I don't want to be reunited in this way!<p>

"America." President Madison looked at me seriously, "I know that you think highly of England despite everything, and that this must be difficult for you, but we have no choice. I am sorry to put you through something like this, but we simply have to go to war."

"I... I understand." I hung my head and exited the room as quickly as I could.  
>Once I had made it outside, I gritted my teeth and clenched a fist.<p>

"Dammit!" I shouted, punching the wall of the building as hard as I possibly could. "Why does it have to be this way?"

Of course I know that relations with England have been depleting further and further, but I never actually thought that we'd end up going to war. The main cause of this is because of trade restrictions and British support of stopping American expansion. I don't know if I can handle warring with England again, whenever I replayed us meeting again in my head it was always in a way in which we were fighting together on the same side.

At this rate, it looks as though I'm going to become a permanent enemy against him, and that is that last thing I want.

x~x~x~x~x

"Captain! Their land army has significantly increased! What are the strategies?"

"We needn't bother with land armies, they are superfluous. Listen up everyone: we block all trade routes! That bloody frog and that Napoleon bastard will be in total submission in no time if they cannot get any new resources into the country!"

"Which areas shall we put a blockade on?" someone asked.

I beckoned for a few of the higher ranking men who were currently with me to follow me, leading them into my cabin. I pulled out a large map and began to point out critical areas. "As you can see, if we simply commandeer these areas, France will soon be incapable of going at the rate they are going. Understood?"

"Yes Captain!"

They all cleared out, leaving me alone so that I could devise any more strategies should the need arise. I let out a long sigh. "Honestly, that damn Frenchy certainly isn't holding back," I muttered under my breath.

I went over to my bed and collapsed onto it, chuckling slightly. I can't help but find this situation amusing. Here I am, fighting France, and he's actually putting up a pretty decent fight. I don't think we've ever been this closely matched before. I guess I'm actually thankful for this current war; it has allowed me to get a sort of clear perspective on things.

As France is so close in relation to my country, this war has highlighted how important protecting the motherland is. I have to be completely focused on this war, so much so that everything else has to take a back seat for a while. I still have to juggle being at war with the usual duties of public opinion and economic policies, and I still have to contend with my own emotions, but for the most part: this war is serving as a decent distraction.

"Captain!" Without warning, the door to my cabin is flung open and a very worried looking man is standing before me.

"What is it?" I ask, pulling myself up off of the bed to give him my full attention.

"W-We're at war!" he said frantically.

I simply looked at him as if he was an idiot. "Well obviously," I said sarcastically, "We have been in this blasted war for nearly a decade, so I'm pretty sure that I've grasped the concept that we are actually at war."

The man shook his head vigorously and tried again, clearing his voice and saying shakily, "No... we're at war with... with..."

"With who?" I pressed. Who on earth could he be referring to? As far as I'm aware, France is the only country posing any threat to us at the moment.

"With America..."

I stood extremely still upon hearing that. "What?" I asked quietly.

"America have just declared war on us," he said, looking as if he was about to collapse from worry.

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" I roared.

"N-No, we just got word from the King himself," he stuttered out. "His Majesty said that we were at war, but he wants you to focus your efforts on France for the time being. He said that you are to send over troops and fleets to deal with the American threat..." He held out a piece of paper to me and I snatched it up rapidly, perusing its contents.

I couldn't believe it, is this is really happening? We're at war _again_?

I took particular note of the last lines of the letter: _Under no circumstances whatsoever are you to leave the effort in France. We may be at war with America, but the threat from France is far more important, and I do not think that you are ready to face a conflict with America. England, I know that even after all of this time you are still hurting, so please allow other troops to deal with America this time. I do not wish to cause any more unpleasant memories for you._

They can't be serious... they are going to fight the whole war without me? I know that I'm needed here, but to actually _forbid _me from going... although perhaps that is for the best. As part of my resolve to put the past behind me, I vowed not to see America again. I'm sure that the British forces are more than capable of handling things without me; I needn't concern myself with America anymore.

So then why has that sick feeling returned to me, and I feel like falling apart once more?

x~x~x~x~x

"Damn, I don't get it! They were only being defensive up until now, what the hell's going on?"

Worried cries from my troops are heard all around, so much so that it was hard to make out exactly what each of them were saying. They are all words of worry, that much is obvious.  
>I had no choice but to go to war with England, my will doesn't really count for much. The people wanted war, the President wanted war, and so I have to comply. It's weird; I've never had to deal with the contrasting emotions of what I want and what the people want before. It makes me feel dizzy, light headed. And now this: we've been at war for a couple of years now, but I haven't seen England at all. I remember hearing something about England also being at war with France, so maybe he's there? At any rate, we've been faring rather well until now. However, without warning the British troops have started attacking full force, catching us off guard.<p>

"Ready, aim... FIRE!" A commander gives the order and hundreds of bullets begin to hurtle towards the advancing British troops. They use the exact same tactics on us, and men from both sides begin to fall. We can't afford to lose this; we have to stay strong.

"AMERICA!" A man is currently running up to me, doing his best to stay out of the line of fire. I recognise him as Jackson, a man who is held in high regard in the military. I've never seen him look this worried before, but he looks as though he's seen a ghost as he comes closer to me.

"What is it?" I asked, keeping my eyes focused on the troops before me, musket at the ready should the need to use it present itself.

"Shit! They've captured Washington! What are we going to do?" he screamed frantically.

"They've done _what_?" I asked in disbelief, a shiver running down my spine. Losing Washington... that can't be good.

"You must come with me right away! We have to try and take it back!"

"Right!"

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2031-_

_I have failed my people. As a country, I should have stayed strong and been able to diffuse any threats, but no. I foolishly let D.C get captured, and the British took advantage of that:  
>They burned it.<br>When I arrived, all I could see were bright orange flames everywhere, no matter where I looked. People were screaming frantically, trying to get away. The smell of burning was overwhelming.  
>But the fire wasn't the thing that shocked me the most. When I arrived, I got a glimpse of some of those who had set the fire...<br>They were clearly men from the navy, and when they clapped eyes on me they smirked. I wasn't sure why this was, but then one of them spat out:  
>"This is what you get for screwing up our Captain!"<br>The other men all cheered as they watched Washington burn, all of them saying that they had gotten revenge for their Captain...  
>England, what are they talking about? You've already forgotten me and moved on right? So then why did they keep saying that I ruined you?<br>I don't understand anything anymore... _

x~x~x~x~x

"You did _what_?" I exclaimed, glaring at the men before me.

"We set Washington on fire," one of them grinned, the others looked extremely proud of themselves as well.

"Are you all idiots? What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?" I was positively livid, but they merely looked at me in confusion.

"Captain, that America guy messed you up pretty bad. We wanted to get revenge for you, seeing as you're not allowed to go over there yourself."

"I appreciate it," I sighed, because I knew they meant well. However, although I knew that I still wanted to kill them. I don't want to do anything that would put me and America on even worse terms, I may not be allowed to actually go over and fight this time, but if America and I become common enemies then I'll have to face him one day, and... well I don't think I can handle that just yet. Ideally, I never want to see him again, so then that way the hole in my chest will heal.

"These wars are a load of bullshit," I mumbled, "But at least the French bastard's surrendered."  
>It's taken just over a decade, but we finally managed to nullify the threat posed by that damn frog. Now all that remains is America, but I am not allowed to go there. His Majesty himself has requested to see me though, so I'm half expecting him to tell me that I am to sail there first thing tomorrow, or something similar.<p>

I walked away from my crew members and headed towards the palace, straightening my attire out so that I looked presentable. As I make my way down all of the grand hallways, my mind wanders to just how I would go about dealing with all of my emotions if I really was told to go to America. I cannot allow myself to fall apart like I did the last time; I must stay cool and composed.

I opened the door carefully once I'd reached the correct destination within the palace.

"You asked to see me, Your Majesty?"

"Ah, hello England. Please enter." I did as I was told, bowing and then waiting expectantly to hear what all of this was about.

"As you know, our victory over France is indeed something to celebrate over." He smiled, and I nodded in agreement. "Yet there is still the issue of America," he said more seriously.  
>I closed my eyes in anticipation of being told that I had to go over there.<br>"I think that it would be best," he began, "If we just pulled out."

"I'm sorry... what?" That was the last thing I was expecting.

"There really is no reason for us to carry on with the conflict, so I'm calling an end to the war. There are needless casualties occurring over there, America is putting up a good fight. Yet like I said, there is no need for this. So we are pulling out. Besides, we should really be focusing on our Empire now."

I stood there in silence, still not believing that he was planning to end this war with America just like that. But who am I to go against the King?

"That is all England, you are dismissed."

I bowed once more before exiting the room, wondering if there would be any more wars for me to fight soon.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2127-_

_The borders of my country keep expanding, and I continue to grow. It's been quite some time since we last had a conflict, and the people are all happy.  
>Everyone wants to create a country that is united. Back when I was a child, I always remember wanting to unite all countries and bring peace.<br>I had dreams of being a hero.  
>Although it may seem pretty childish to claim to be a hero, I have to say that it seems rather appealing.<br>If I become a hero that can unite everyone, then one day I'll also be able to be with England. So I think I'll try becoming the hero of the world.  
>Also, I've had to start wearing glasses recently... it feels kinda weird!<em>

x~x~x~x~x

I do not understand myself anymore. I thought that being able to attain a state where the Empire was on top, where the motherland was invincible, then I would finally be content, I would finally feel secure. Yet all I feel is lonely. The aristocracy and the monarchy themselves have no qualms of course, and you can even feel the pride the people hold about being part of the glorious British Empire. It seems that I am the only one not revelling in the glory of having absolute power. We have so much authority, yet we attained it through plundering and killing. Being as old as I am, I thought I had done all of the growing up I needed to do, but it seems as though I had a long way to go. As neither Britain nor the Empire are under any threat from anyone, there is no need for me to fight anyone, and so I have relinquished my Captain duties.

I think that it's about time I started taking a more mature approach to things. If I am part of the motherland of such a powerful Empire, then I should act like it. Whether or not I'll be able to leave my chaotic past behind me is unclear, but even if it is a facade I can at least try and become what people would term a 'gentleman'.  
>I have a lot of time to myself nowadays; I wonder how long my country can keep this up? I've lost track of just how many years we have been like this, and the feeling of loneliness is just consuming me more and more. I guess that there isn't really any need for any relationships to be formed between myself and other countries as long as things are like this.<p>

I suppose it's kind of sad: my whole life I thought splendid isolation was the answer, but now that I have it I realise that being completely alone is the last thing that I want.

Of course, being a gentleman, I am not supposed to admit that. Being 'proper' and 'reserved' is how I am now supposed to act now.

x~x~x~x~x

"What the bloody hell do you want, frog?" I asked, my voice cold.

"After all of these years you 'aven't changed one bit," France replied, shaking his head so that those stupid effeminate locks of his swished about.

"Answer my bloody question," I said, losing all my patience. I took a sip of tea and tried to calm myself, wondering why I had agreed to see this idiot in the first place. It's been absolutely years since we've seen each other, a positive thing that has risen out of splendid isolation. Yet here he was now.

"I think you know why I am 'ere," he said, suddenly serious.

Yes, I do actually know the reason. The reason is a certain country that is rapidly growing at an alarming rate.

"Germany," I said.

"Correct. 'e is not only posing a threat to Europe, but to you as well. And so, although I'd rather choke down your God awful cooking, my boss 'as expressed desires for us to create an alliance."

"Ha! An alliance with you? You have got to be kidding me," I chuckled, but looked at the other carefully because although I was not going to admit this out loud, my boss had also told me to start looking towards making deals with countries like France. Germany was becoming a serious threat...

"Just stop being so snobbish and British and form an alliance with me!" France was practically begging.

"Hmph! I don't see how calling me a 'snob' is supposed to get me to join your side. We've never gotten along, what on earth makes you think we can fight alongside each other when we're so used to fighting against each other?"

"Angleterre, you cannot keep this up and you know it. We 'ave to reach some sort of agreement, oui?"

"Just us?" I inquired.

"Non, there is also Russia and your close friend Japan. You must know that you need 'elp with what is about to come if you actually went so far as to make agreements with a country like Japan."

He has a point. Recently, my country has made an alliance with an Asian power known as Japan. I guess it comes as no surprise for me to learn that France knew about this. But to form another alliance with him and _Russia _of all people? Russia... another country that I do not get along with.

"I personally don't want anything to do with you, you wanker," I said simply, taking another sip of tea, "But I can see that it would be a bother if your country fell to Germany, because then the motherland is in danger. So how about a gentleman's agreement?"

"A gentleman's agreement?" he asked, not really understanding what I meant.

"We needn't bother with formal documents and alliances, we shall just have a friendly spoken deal in which we shall try and cooperate."

"No! You can easily go against something like that!" he protested, pulling his handkerchief out and waving it around dramatically.

"Well it's the best you're going to get. I'll help you if I feel like it," I said. "Now, if you don't mind you're an eyesore in my living room, so I'd appreciate it if you would go away."

In the end I actually had to drag the bloody Frenchy out of my house and boot him onto the streets, but he needn't have bothered worrying. This threat from Germany is so big that it looks like I'll have to try and be civil with that idiot blonde; otherwise things could end very badly indeed.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2314-_

_I heard that all of the European Powers are caught up in some huge war. President Wilson says that there is no need for our country to get involved with it.  
>Apparently it is a war unlike any other, I wonder why it even came about.<br>England is in this war... I hope he is okay. It's been over a century since I saw him last; yet my feelings remain the same.  
>I know that just sitting here and expecting to magically see him again won't achieve anything, but honestly I don't know how I should even go about being able to meet him again.<br>England... I hope we can be together again soon._

x~x~x~x~x

That European war got more out of hand than anyone thought it would. President Wilson tried his best to keep all of America neutral, but we ended up being dragged into it in the final year anyway. I felt for sure that this would be my chance to finally see England again after all of these years and show him how much I've changed, to see if I'm his equal. But no, we weren't involved long enough for me to actually see him again. Is there such a thing as fate? Because if there is; it's a total bitch. Fate seems determined to keep us apart, but I'm determined to beat it.

Everyone was trying to keep on good terms after that war, but for whatever reason they are all at war again.

I make my way down the long halls of the White House, knowing full well why I had been summoned.  
>I knock at the door, and when bid to I enter.<p>

"Hello America, I shall keep this brief," President Roosevelt said with a grim expression on his face.

"I think I already know what this is about..." I mumbled, and he looked at me curiously before sighing.  
>"Yes, I guess it must be obvious to you what this is all about. Well, given the circumstances, I hope you understand why we have to join in this war."<p>

"I understand completely."  
>What he is referring to is the incident at Pearl Harbour. Once again, we tried to stay out of the war but it looks as though we'll have to join the fight. War is never a good thing, that much is obvious, yet there is a glimmer of hope because we are joining the war on the Allied side... England's side...<p>

We discussed the logistics on how everything will work before I was dismissed to go and make the necessary preparations. As soon as I got back to my house, I went and dug out a burger I had stored in the kitchen.

I absentmindedly munch on it while I contemplate writing another journal entry as I walk to my study. Seriously, there is this new place called McDonald's that opened up and it's freaking awesome! I go there whenever I can, the food there is so delicious! I was all depressed because I haven't seen England in so long, but the food definitely helps to lower the sadness... that's not weird is it? Ah well, the food's good so I'll continue eating it.

I pick up the pen on my desk and just as I'm about to put it to another blank page of my journal, the phone starts ringing.

"I wonder who that it?" I mutter, finishing off the burger and reaching for the phone.

"This is America," I say.

"Ah! America, thank goodness! I 'ave been trying to get through for ages!"

"France?" I asked, surprised that he would be calling me. "What's up dude? Aren't you in a war?"

"That is why I'm ringing you! Look, things are getting out of 'and and so the Allies were wondering if you'd consider joining."

"Tell him that we're the better side, aru!" I heard someone say in the background.  
>"Yes, it would be most wise for him to become one with us, kol kol," someone else said.<p>

That last voice was slightly creepy, and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Shut up!" France said to those in the background, putting his hand over the receiver to muffle his voice. "I don't 'ave much time to convince 'im, remember?"  
>His voice became clearer again after that. "Are you still there America?"<p>

"Yeah."

"Okay, so we really would appreciate some 'elp. It would totally be worth your while!"

Huh? Doesn't he realise that I'm already joining the war on their side? Well actually, this incident has only just happened so maybe he hasn't received word yet.

"No need to convince me France, I'm already-"

"Aiyah! England is coming, aru!" I am cut off from my explanation by one of the people in the background, and France begins to freak out.  
>"Ah! Russia! Use your pipe on Angleterre!" he said frantically.<p>

"France? What's going on?" I asked in confusion.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?"

I froze. I know that voice... It's England.

"We are not doing anything Angleterre," France said, an obvious lie. England quickly picked up on it.

"Who's on the other end of the phone?" he asked.

"No one!"

"Hey, that's not nice dude!" I protested.

"Give me the phone you bastard," he commanded.  
>"No! It's no one important on the line!" the Frenchman continued to protest.<p>

"Yes, it most definitely is not America."  
>"Aiyah! Russia you idiot, aru!"<p>

"What? Give me that phone right now you bloody frog!" I heard lots of random noises on the other end of the line, along with England and France screaming at each other.

Eventually, a breathless voice was on the other end of the line. "America?"

My eyes widened. I cleared my throat as best I could, but my voice still faltered. "E-England..."

"Tch, look never mind what that idiot France said. We are absolutely fine so- GAH!"

"What are you doing you English fool?" France exclaimed. "I was busy winning 'im over!"

"You asked me earlier and I said no you wanker!"

"We took a vote, we need America!"

"That's it, I've had enough of being civil with a bastard like you, I'll kill you!"

And with that, the phone went dead.

"What was that about?" I asked, thoroughly confused. But still, I can't help but smile slightly. I heard England's voice...

England, I'll finally get to see you soon, and I can't wait.

x~x~x~x~x

"Angleterre, would you just calm down?"

"How can I be bloody calm knowing that America is in this damn war?" I yelled.

"But we are on the same side, so it's not all bad, oui?"

"I... I..." I am completely lost for words, I don't know what to say or do. I glared at my allies in the room before storming out angrily.

America in the war... America on my side... It's been over a century since I last saw him, I've had enough time to get over everything that's happened. But still, even now, a small part of me aches.  
>No, how can I possibly do this?<p>

America, I'll finally get to see you soon, and I'm terrified.

x~x~x~x~x

**Urgh, things were getting wayyy too serious there, so I had to have that phone call to just lighten the damn mood a little!** **:P**  
><strong>So, what is next for these two countries now that they have become allies? Will America ever get his feelings known? And how will Iggy deal with meeting up with America again? Stick with this story to find out ^_^<strong>  
><strong>In terms of the US in WW1, they hardly fought on European soil which is why I have them being reunited in WW2 when they worked more closely together :D (That History Overview thingy I mentioned is after my AN btw XD)<strong>  
><strong>Well, thanks for reading, and please review~~! ^_^ Until next time everyone :)<strong>

* * *

><p><span>A History Lesson With Anime Alchemist~~! ^.^<span>

Okay, after the Revolutionary War there was always tension between America and Britain. Britain didn't want America to expand and tried to stop it (which obviously annoyed the Americans). During all of this, France was having its Revolution and towards the end of their Revolution, a man called Napoleon came into power. He built up French forces and had intentions to rival Britain and take the Empire, thus posing a serious threat. Britain had no option but to go to war with France, and as the war lasted for many years it became very expensive. Because Britain had to divert so much money into the war effort, they put up trading sanctions on American goods to save money (annoying the Americans further). As well as this, Britain also forced many American sailors to join their Navy. Basically, America had enough of this and so declared war on Britain (known as The War of 1812). So Britain found itself fighting two wars, although the war with France was more important because of geographical issues. Long story short, Britain only used defensive tactics against America as most of its troops were busy fighting Napoleon, and when they finally won against him they switched to aggressive tactics and captured Washington, setting it on fire. However, because the war with France was now over, Britain began trading with America again and were more lenient when it came to American expansion, so the war kinda fizzled out.  
>The War Of 1812 was regarded as a huge victory in the eyes of the Americans, but for the British it was viewed as a sort of side war that didn't really mean much, because it was massively overshadowed by the Napoleonic Wars.<br>After all of this, Britain's Empire was all epic and was basically untouchable for about 100 years (known as the Imperial Century). However, Germany was quickly developing it's industry and armed forces and began to pose a threat to Britain, forcing them to make deals with France, Russia and Japan (they were known as the Entente Powers and fought WW1). Then I'm pretty sure you all know WW2 :P  
>Incidentally, McDonald's really did exist during WW2 XD<p> 


	10. Facade

**Hello everyone :) Thank you to all who took the time to review and favourite, it really means a lot to me ^_^ So, allies... they are finally back together, so let's see what will happen!**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Ten- Facade

Okay, my jacket is totally perfect, hair all neat and tidy, tie done up properly... this will make a good first impression right? Wait... are my glasses crooked?  
>Suddenly fixated with finding the perfect angle with which to wear my glasses, I start fumbling around. After a moment, I finally find the best way to wear them... but is my tie <em>really <em>done up properly? Is the knot thing too big? Or maybe the tie length isn't quite right... And what about my bomber jacket? Should I zip it up or keep it open? How about halfway between the two? But then, would that detract from the tie that I just redid? No... I'll have to tie it again, the knot _still _seems slightly off.

Damn, I'm nervous as hell.

No. I'm not nervous. Heroes don't get nervous! They charge in head first and full of confidence, they no nothing of mere nerves! The only reason my heart is beating so fast, the only reason I have butterflies in my stomach, the only reason my mouth has gone dry... well, it's abviously because I only had a small breakfast of four burgers. Yes, that must be it, I'm totally _not _nervous.

Who the hell am I kidding?

I let out a deep sigh and focus on trying to put one foot in front of the other and keep what little composure I have at this point in time. I carry on making my way down the corridor (albeit slowly) and made my way towards the room in which I was to have my first meeting with my new allies: France, Russia, China and...

England...

I shake my head severely, trying to just _focus_. The world is at war! This is _not _the time for me to agonise over a painfully one sided love that has a slim chance of being requited. This is _not _the time for me to lose my cool even if the object of my affection and I will be reunited after what, quite frankly, has felt like the longest time in the universe. This is _not _the time for- well you get the idea.

I eventually walk up to the door. The door to the room that my allies are in. The door that I'm seriously contemplating running away from at this particular point in time. I can't do this! I mean, how should I act? What should I say? Perhaps if I just come back in a few days when I've had more of a chance to prepare, then it'll be for the best.

No, that's never gonna work. It's now or never; time to make a good first impression as the hero!

Although... I can totally make a good first impression in about five minutes. Yeah, I'll just go for a mini walk down the corridor for a few minutes and return feeling completely refreshed.  
>Turning away from the door, I carry on further down the hallway and allow my mind to wander, not really focusing on my surroundings.<p>

Okay so the plan when I arrive at the room late is to say that I accidentally got lost, that's believable right?

I let out a sigh. This is stupid. This whole time I've been counting down the seconds until I could finally see England again, but now... This isn't a fantasy.

When I daydream about meeting England again, there are always loads of random sparkles everywhere. We don't care where we are, although it's usually some cheesy place with loads of flowers, and when we happen upon each other: tears fall. Apologies are said, we put the past behind us, and we walk off hand in hand to a sunset that just came out of nowhere, while a cool breeze blows gently through our hair...

That's obviously a load of crap.

Nothing _that _idealistic is going to happen. In reality, our reunion will probably be boring. We're allies now, so perhaps we are going to have a strictly business setting around us, or something similar. Damn it, I've not even met him yet and I'm already worrying about the small details! I just need to take a deep breath and-

"Ah!"

As my head was so far off in the clouds, I failed to notice that apparently someone was heading in the opposite direction to me and so we ended up colliding. I managed to catch whoever it was who I had crashed into in my arms as their arms fell around my back, clearly trying to support themselves. One we were both relatively steady, I laughed slightly.

"I'm sorry dude," I apologised, but...

Wait a second; this feeling... it's kinda familiar...

I could feel the person in my arms immediately tense, and they quickly withdrew their arms from around me. I was almost scared to look at whomever it was I had bashed into for fear of confirming my suspicions. I glanced down...

Dirty blonde hair, the scent of tea and mints, captivating emerald eyes...

"E-England," I stammered, so uncool but that was actually the last thing on my mind at this point. Wow, the height difference between us has gotten quite a bit bigger...

"Let. Go." he said stiffly. I was so shell shocked that I failed to notice that I was still holding him, but upon hearing that I quickly let go and took a step back. "Ah, I... well you see, I was just-"

"That way," he said, pointing the way I had just come. His voice was flat and even, with no trace of emotion as he said, "The meeting room is that way. I guess you should follow me." And with that, he began walking off.

I just stood there, gazing after him and not quite comprehending what had actually just happened. My heart was racing like crazy, even though it was just an extremely brief encounter that must be very insignificant to him. Of course I knew that the whole rainbow and sparkles reunion was never going to happen, but why did the real reunion have to be so... awkward. There are so many things I want to ask him:

_How have you been?_  
><em>What have you been up to recently?<em>  
><em>Did you... even miss me in the slightest?<em>

But England seemed totally composed and professional, keeping a brisk pace as he walked away, as if he didn't even care... I began to quickly follow him, my mood lowering as I realised that I had been right: For England, this is strictly business.

x~x~x~x~x

Bloody hell! Okay, just breathe England, focus on breathing and staying calm. You are calm. You are _calm_ dammit!

I am anything but calm.

Honestly, what in God's name just happened? One moment I'm minding my own business, heading towards the meeting room as I mulled over the things that needed to be addressed at the meeting, and-

Wait. No, that's a lie. I wasn't thinking about what I was going to discuss at the meeting at all. How could I, when today is the day that _he _is joining our ranks? The truth of the matter is that I was contemplating the very appealing idea of just skipping the meeting today; hence why I had walked passed the room on my way in.

I know that it is ridiculous to be hung up so much on an event that happened over a century ago. I should be willing to be the bigger man and accept my new ally, and do my best to work alongside him. Yet I know myself very well. Despite my gentlemanly exterior: there is still the insecure me- who's heart twinges slightly at the mere mention of America. There is still the delinquent me- who honestly wants to beat the idiot senseless. There is still the caring me- who wants to protect the one who was once my little brother.

And now there is the gentlemanly me- who doesn't have a bloody clue on how to go about dealing with the current situation.

I am smart enough to realise that having a mental breakdown, or killing my new ally, or turning into some over protective parent is most definitely _not _the way in which I should proceed with things, so as I went on a small walk to try and clear my mind, I finally gained some clarity on how to conduct myself:

Be indifferent.

A gentleman lives his life being 'proper' and not causing a fuss over silly, trivial things. He looks over things with detached interest, and while not a bad person- he is not overly 'in your face' either. A gentleman is just simply: there. And that is how I had so perfectly planned how I was to deal with America. I was going to (attempt) to start afresh, simply being the man in the background who would perhaps offer the occasional bit of advice should he need it, but for the most part would remain neutral and not have anything to do with him beyond urgent work matters.

And so it was, with this flawless resolve, that I began to make my way back to the meeting room. It was just as I was lost deep in thought about the various aspects of this new persona I had created that it happened...

I increased my pace slightly as I headed towards the meeting room, glancing backwards slightly and making out America in my periphery vision. God, could that little 'reunion' of ours have been any more awkward if we'd actually tried? And what the hell is up with his height? He was already a damn giant the last time I saw him! But I am not going to think about that time, or the past. No, focus on the present and the future! As far as I am concerned: America is just another ally, whom I have never met before. It is much better for the Allies if I take this stance; it will increase the chance of me being able to carry out my duties effectively.

Besides, he hates me so I highly doubt he'll give a damn about my decided role as 'neutral guy in the background'. I must say that I was rather pleased with the way in which I kept my calm when we ended up colliding, it just shows that when necessary: I can follow any resolve!

I stopped once we had reached our destination, making sure that America knew which room the meeting was to take place in, before I opened the door and made sure I got the seat next to China, because I refuse to sit next to the French bastard and Russia... well the less said about that shit scary country, the better.

The door closes behind me, which is rather strange because America wasn't _that _far behind me. Oh well, it's not my problem. I just have to fade into the background as far as he is concerned.

"America is here," I say casually, not making a big deal of it and not making it seem like I detested the idea either- it was a nice balance of professionalism and decorum.

None of the other countries in the room actually had a chance to react to what I had just said, because all of a sudden the door was flung open.

x~x~x~x~x

Okay, so I'm back at the meeting room after that extremely uncomfortable meeting with England and wondering what I should do.

He expects me to go into the room; he did lead me here after all. But... but why was he acting so standoffish? There wasn't even a pitiful attempt at small talk given on the way over here- and British people _love _small talk! But I shouldn't be surprised; it's only natural that I'm the only one that's looking way too much into this.

Well, that's going to end! I've worked my ass off trying to become England's equal, so I'm gonna do my best to show it! That little incident back in the hallway, that didn't count- I totally wasn't expecting it. But _this _time, I'll make a good first impression.

I take a deep breath and grab the door handle, willing confidence to wash over me before I flung the door open and announced: "Never fear! The hero is here!"

Oh yeah, that'll totally make a good first impression! I grinned and looked at those in the room, who were simply staring back, dumbfounded. Well, I guess that's understandable- they haven't seen anyone as heroic as me before.

"What's up dudes?" I say casually, gliding into the room to show how completely _not _nervous I was.

Russia gave a creepy smile and started making a noise unlike anything I've ever heard- seriously, it was worrying! China simply nodded before glancing back down at some paperwork that was in front of him.

"America~!" France said happily after a moment, getting up from his chair, "'ow nice of you to join us," he sparkled. He looked me up and down for a moment before he smiled, "My, you 'ave grown so much! You've seen this Angleterre?"

England just nodded and grunted before glancing out of the window. "Now now, is that any way to treat our new ally?" he asked, sidling over to him.

"I showed him the way here didn't I?" England said curtly, putting on a total poker face- he was completely unreadable.

"And 'ere I was expecting some sort of dramatic reunion between the two of you, 'ow boring~" he said jokingly, putting a hand on the Brit's shoulder and leaning in close to whisper something to him.

"France is about to get hurt," Russia said happily, looking as France snaked his hands around the gentleman, who... didn't do anything? Of course I was looking on too, in complete confusion. I thought those two hated each other, so then why was France all over England? And why was England just sat there letting France do that?

To be honest: it's pissing me off.

It was as I was looking as France was _still_ clinging to England that, and I swear I'm not making this up, he glanced at me and smirked. The Brit swatted him away then, making some snide comment but I wasn't really focusing, because there was no mistaking it now: France was deliberately holding my gaze, and there was a glint in his eye. What's going on? Yet before I could come up with a logical explanation, our little staring contest was ended when China spoke up:

"Right, well now that we all know each other I think that we should get down to business, aru."

"I quite agree," England nodded at China and began to sort through his own paperwork.

"Okay, the first order of business is: should we use Angleterre's food as weapons on the Axis? Or is that just too 'arsh?" France piped up, smirking as he saw England getting visibly riled up.

"I think that England's cooking would most definitely be our most effective weapon," Russia said creepily, dropping the temperature around him by about 500 degrees.

"I agree, aru," China added.

"While I appreciate the joke," England said through gritted teeth, "You do realise that there _is _actually a war going on? So, I would appreciate it if you would keep your bloody comments to yourself."

"Who's joking?" France said, looking at the other blonde seriously, but with a grin playing on his lips.

"Hmph! I refuse you play your childish games, frog!" he sniffed indignantly.

"Just because you know your food stinks~" France neatly dodged the stapler England threw at him and chuckled, while China sighed and said, "Here we go again, aru."

"You think you're so bloody great just because you have a few high ranking restaurants at your place? Well I've got news for you Frenchy: Only a bastard like you would be idiotic enough to cook snails!"

"And yet they still taste better than anything you can produce!"

"That's it, screw you!"

I just looked on as the two of them launched at each other, trading blows before getting themselves into a sort of wrestling deadlock.

"Is it... always like this?" I asked as France tripped England up so that he ended up sprawled on the floor.

"Yes, it is fun to watch them hurt each other isn't it?" Russia smiled as England managed to roll out of the way of a kick from France, pick himself up and deliver a hard punch to his stomach.

"Hmm... well I'm the hero, so I'll stop the fighting!" I proclaimed, partly because I wanted to actually show what I could do, but mostly because this fight seemed to be France's ploy of touching England somehow... God, I sound so paranoid.  
>I approach the fighting countries with caution before timing my move to perfection.<p>

I caught hold of England and restrained him while giving France my winning hero smile and saying, "The hero commands this fight to stop!"

"Hnn~ Is that so?" he said, raising an eyebrow. Meanwhile England, who had been extremely animated only seconds ago, went completely still didn't say anything- the stoic expression he wore before returning once again.

He pulled away from me and coughed, before going to sit down at his seat once more with a resigned look. "Let us dispense with the fighting and actually try and have a meeting," he said, sounding completely automatic and unnatural.

What the hell? I can't tell for sure at this point cuz it's still kinda early, but it feels like England is definitely avoiding me...

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2512-_

_Meetings with the Allies are... weird.__  
><em>I guess I wasn't really sure what to expect, but the last thing I expected was, well, what it's really like.<em>  
><em>I've been going to these meetings for about 10 days now, and I've spotted a pattern:<em>  
><em>Either China or England tries to start the meeting off normally before France does something to piss off England, so they end up in a fight while China sighs and Russia creeps everyone out.<em>  
><em>I initially tried breaking the fights up, but it's kinda useless.<em>  
><em>I'm totally right when I say that England is completely blanking me. He'll smile and joke with China, and even converse with Russia. Then of course, he's always fighting with France but at least he acknowledges him.<em>  
><em>I'm the only one he actually ignores. He just gets a blank expression whenever I say or do something, and makes a conscious effort to not be alone with me.<em>  
><em>At this point, I'm getting desperate: all I want is a bit of acknowledgement from him, even just a little.<em>  
><em>How can I break the mask that he shows only to me?<em>_

x~x~x~x~x

"So as you can see, if we attempt to launch an attack from here, the forces will-"

"-Angleterre?"

"France... I swear to God if this is another bloody crack about my cooking I will personally see your demise," I said flatly, not in the mood for another one of our spats after we've already had about four already- and it's still the morning.

"Let England finish and then you can have your silly arguments, aru," China said, both elbows propped up on the table and resting his chin on his hands.

"Thank you China," I smiled, glad that at least _someone _here was focused. I turned back to the blackboard and continued to annotate the chalk diagram, pointing out the strengths and weaknesses of each of the different tactics that had been raised so far.

"Dude, okay I have a totally sweet plan with like, no weaknesses at all!" America suddenly interjected my explanation and bounced up to the front of the room. He grinned at me, whereas I remembered to keep calm and not let any emotions get the better of me: returning his grin with a calm look. I saw his eyebrows furrow slightly before he resumed the grin, reaching over me to try and grab the chalk in my hand. I tensed naturally- I never was one for bodily contact. I stiffly handed him the chalk, keeping my breathing even and remembering my role as the elusive one who will only stoop to help in dire emergency. I stood back from the black board and allowed him to begin scribbling something that I _think_ was meant to represent Germany, although it was hard to tell.

"Okay, so picture this dudes: seeing as Russia is like freaky big, all his troops surround Germany, while England and China create diversions. Naturally, I'll be the hero and when all seems lost, I'll fly down and use my super powers to secure the win! Hahaha, pretty sweet right?"

By this point, America had drawn himself in what I can only imagine to be some form of super-hero outfit, because to be honest it just looked like a two year old had gotten their hands on the chalk and gone mad. No one bothered speaking for obvious reasons- the plan was awful and stupid.

"I can understand that your stunned silence is because you are in complete awe of my epic plan, it's natural," he nodded. Oh my God, he's completely delusional!

"You think this plan is awesome, right England?" he turned to me, and I'm pretty sure I had a deadpan look on my face before focusing and becoming the indifferent person once more.

"I don't think that will work," was all I said, despite wanting to shout about how utterly ludicrous it was.

"Huuuuh? Why not, _explain _it to me dude."

I sighed in exasperation: I don't want to get too involved. Besides, one of the others can explain how stupid the plan is, it doesn't need to be me. I just ignored the question and went to sit down in my seat, waiting for someone to speak up.

It was China who broke the short silence in the end, or at least tried to. He had only gotten three words out before America yelled, "No!" He calmed himself down, and then looked right at me. I concealed the surprise and curiosity I was feeling and kept my poker face, quirking an eyebrow slightly.

"England, I asked _you _to say something. Tell me honestly what you think of my plan, and tell me properly!"

I could see France getting more and more interested, leaning backwards in his seat to take more information in.

"It is hardly fair on the others if I do all of the talking," I said calmly before looking out of the window to indicate that I didn't want any more part in this.

"Pfft! As if dude! You're probably so quiet cuz you gave yourself food poisoning cuz your food sucks!"

I froze.

France burst out laughing.

America glared at me defiantly.

I could feel my perfect mask begin to crumble, and one of my eyes twitched slightly. No, I cannot get carried away. Just remove myself from anything to do with America and everything will be fine. "Do not pick up habits from France, no one will like you at the end of it," I said coolly, but he was persistent.

"So that means I'm right? I mean, you're totally not denying it."

Another surge of emotion- anger- swept through me. Damn, just stay calm...

"What's the matter? Don't have anything to say to that?" he challenged.

_Stay. Calm._

"I am simply refusing to partake in this foolish game," I said evenly, trying not to let the bite in my words become too evident. I _have _to keep myself uninvolved with him as much as I can!

"Hah! Yeah right! If you ask me, we should use your food as a method of torture if we capture any prisoners!"

That's it, my patience snapped.

"WHO THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

"I'm America, the hero!" he winked.

"Some damn hero you are! Coming in here with a bullshit plan, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any concept of common sense? Because so far, you haven't bloody shown any!" I yelled, breathing heavily.

He simply grinned triumphantly, chucking the chalk in his hand onto the table and sitting back in his seat, humming a happy tune.

"Oi! You git, don't just make such grand claims and then back the hell out of the damn fight!"

He looked up at me, big blue eyes curious as he cocked his head to the side. "I have no idea what you're talking about dude!"

"What the hell?" I asked in annoyance.

"Must be you getting senile in your old age, you're forgetting stuff."

"That's it!" And so, completely throwing away my perfect mask of aloof-ness, I moved to hit America, but he easily blocked. "Looks like you need a lesson in manners, git," I practically growled, but he still had on that same, infuriating grin...

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2519-_

_I did it! I totally found a way to stop England from ignoring me!__  
><em>Annoy him.<em>  
><em>Sure, not exactly the approach you take for someone you're in love with, but at least this way he actually talks to me instead of giving simple sentence answers.<em>  
><em>No matter what, I'm determined to get to his real emotions, so that I can understand him better.<em>  
><em>However, until then it looks as though I'll just have to tease him. It kills two birds with one stone:<em>  
><em>England notices me more, and I get to see how cute he looks when he gets mad.<em>  
><em>England, prepare yourself: I'm gonna figure you out!<em>_

x~x~x~x~x

**Well, sorry I haven't updated for a bit but I has GCSEs and such at the moment -_- Life sucks, boo!****  
><strong>On the plus side, at least there aren't any hardcore emotional wars now! But... that isn't to say there won't be hardcore emotional stuff coming up at some point, this is a drama after all XD Anywho, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and keep a look out for the next update~ :D As always, your reviews make me very happy ^_^<strong>  
><strong>Until next time~!<strong>**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	11. Stranded

**Hey there everyone :D Thank you all so much for reviews/favourites/alerts and such, they keep me inspired~ *sparkles* Anywho, On with the story I guess~ ^_^**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Eleven- Stranded

I want to die.

I want to die, and I do not care if it is the most painful death imaginable.

I simply:

want

to

die.

"Hey England~ I found some stick thingies, we can make a fire with them! Cool huh?"

I tore my eyes away from the beautiful blue sea in order to look at the cocky idiot who I had the great misfortune of getting stuck here with. Stranded is probably a better word to use. He grinned happily as he began setting up the wood he had collected so that we could at least utilise them for fire later on. He hummed a happy tune, while I simply scowled and turned back to watch the hypnotic expanse of water before me, losing myself in the way the waves would move lethargically up and down the soft, sandy beaches. If this was any other time, I would have said that if I was going to get stranded anywhere, it would be great if it was a place like this. There was just this air of peace and tranquillity in the atmosphere.

But then I remember that there is a war going on.

Then I remember that the reason I am stranded is because of a serious complication on the way to an assignment I had been tasked with.

And to top it all off: I remember that I am stranded with the one bloody person on earth who brings out so many emotions within me, I think I may just go insane with over exposure to him.

"Yo dude! Check it out! This fire set up is gonna be totally sweet!"

I sighed and turned around once again to look at the so called 'masterpiece' the stupid git had created. I just nodded, but I got up to inspect it at a closer range.

Seriously, is the universe testing me or something? Of all the people I could have ended up here with, it had to be...

America.

_-The Other Day-_

"So I think that this plan may just work, what do you all think, aru?" China halted his talk on the latest tactics he had devised and looked at us expectantly. To be fair, it was actually a pretty decent plan: not too risky, we would gain valuable information, and it wasn't expensive at all.

"I actually think that this plan has potential China," I said honestly, looking carefully at all of the details that he had put on the black board. "Who would you send to execute it though? It seems as though it would take at least two of us."

"Well actually I definitely think that you should be one of them, aru."

"What? Why?" I wasn't expecting to be chosen, I usually get pushed back to handle admin or something, not that I'm complaining: after all of the fights I've been involved in, this is a nice change of pace. Besides, suddenly going insane and reverting back to my war-obsessed self wouldn't be the best of things to happen.

"You're the best at reconnaissance, aru," China said simply with a small smile.

Well, I couldn't really deny that. I let the rare compliment go to my head, probably because I was so used to having the French bastard and now America hurling insults at me almost non-stop that I'd actually forgotten what it was like to be _praised _once in a while. I just sat there with a silly smile on my face- most undignified of a gentleman but screw it, I'm going to bask in the glow a bit more.

"As for the second," the Asian country said, glancing around the room, "It's really up to you guys, aru."

"I wouldn't mind doing it," and eerie voice spoke up. "I think it would be fun, kol kol." Only Russia would think a military plan could be 'fun'. I swear something is not right with him. I grimaced at the thought of having to go through an entire assignment with that psychopath, and I began to worry for my own well being. Luckily (or I guess _un_luckily), a lazy hand rose up and France drawled, "I'll do it~"

"No you bloody will not!" I shot a glare at the blonde who simply smirked back.

"It could be _interesting_, non?" France said with a cat like grin. I didn't like the way he said 'interesting', he was clearly thinking something underhanded and perverted.

"Well I think that I should do it, cuz I'm the hero!" America piped up; pointing to himself grandly and shooting an odd look at France for some reason.

I groaned. You have _got _to be kidding me! I looked at China in exasperation, silently pleading with him to nominate himself as well (because at least he's sane in relation to the three offers I had on the table). He simply coughed and muttered something about having to stay back here because who else would sort out the paperwork? It was a valid point, and I sighed in defeat. I began to weigh up my options:

1.) Go with Russia, a country who is most probably a complete and utter psycho. My health and my very life may be at stake, and not only that but he is just plain _creepy_. He also appears to have an aversion to my black magic, so how would I defend myself if a critical moment called for it? It has already been proven that weapons and jumping from God knows how many feet in the air from a plane can't kill him, so this could be very dangerous.

2.) Go with France, a total bastard/pervert/rapist/sleazebag that I have never really gotten along with. If I went with the stupid frog, we probably wouldn't get anything done due to our constant bickering- and screaming at each other is hardly subtle so we would probably be found out by the enemy.

3.) Go with America... not an option. My plan to keep distance between us has been failing to say the least, but there's nothing I can do about that. I just have a short temper; despite the fact a gentleman should have infinite patience. At any rate, I refuse to actively _choose _to go with him.

It was just as I had hatched the brilliant plan of making the others go in place of me, that America spoke up:

"I know how we can settle this dudes!" he said excitedly, leaping up from his chair with three pencils in his hand. "Okay, I coloured one of the ends red and so whoever draws that one totally gets to go on the mission thing!" The other two agreed to the terms of the simple game, while I watched with bated breath to see what my fate would be. France and Russia drew their pencils at the same time while America was left with the only one in his hand.

"Haha! Sweet!" America held the pencil with the red tip up triumphantly and grinned widely. Russia simply shrugged, clearly not fussed about the outcome but I did see France pout a bit- probably because he just wanted to be even more of a dick than he already was. But wait... this outcome...

Damn.

_-Back In The Present-_

All seemed like it would be fine at first: we were to make a connection overseas via plane, before switching to more sly tactics. Easy enough.

Yet somehow it all went horribly wrong.

At some point, and I can't exactly pinpoint where, we must have completely steered for a completely different course. Granted our bickering in the plane probably wasn't aiding our focus on the issue, but the fact that none of us even thought to actually check our co-ordinates... what the hell is this? Doing something as basic as that is just common sense! This is not good, my judgements are clearly severely depleted if I am remotely near America. So, due to us not checking where we actually were in the bloody world, our fuel gauge was soon registering as critically low. This led us to make an emergency landing, and this is where we are now: stranded on some typical desert island- complete with palm trees (oh I can barely contain my excitement).

The sweltering sun continued to assault the mass of land we were currently taking refuge on; I'm not used to this sort of weather at all. Cold weather I can deal with, rainy weather- even better. But blistering hot? No. I can already feel the heat getting to me, and I swear that I've even had a couple of illusions appear before me already.

I sigh and wipe the sweat from my forehead. That beautiful, crystal clear water is looking mighty tempting at the moment...

Ah, to hell with it!

I hike up my trousers as far as they would go, deciding to risk getting a sunburn because there really is no way I can physically continue with all the layers I have on. I had cast my green jacket to the side quite a while ago, pretty much as soon as we landed on this God forsaken island. I'd tried radioing in to the others, but the circuit is completely shot and so there is nothing we can do but sit here and wait. America came up with the bright idea of writing 'SOS' in the sand, only the idiot drew it too close to the sea and so the letters were soon washed away. As I was on the verge of suffering from sunstroke, and America has the attention span of a gnat, we haven't yet gotten around to writing another help message.

Pulling off the already loosened tie from my neck and chucking it somewhere on the warm sand, I begin to unbutton the blouse that has started to stick to me because of all the sweating I've been doing. It was just as I had managed to undo the last one, and was weighing up the options of removing the blouse entirely (thus running the higher risk of sun burn) or just keeping it on as is (thus getting it completely wet with sea water) that America called out to me.

"Hey Iggy, I was just thinking- UWAH!" He had previously been fiddling around with the radio on the plane, and when he looked up at me he completely froze.

"What the bloody hell is up with you, git?" I asked, showing him the scowl that seemed to be an expression I gave exclusively to him.

"Umm... dude, you know your shirt's open right?" he said carefully, averting his gaze. Oh I get it. I felt anger building up within me and I bit out:

"It's hot so this is a necessary action. So sorry if the sight repulses you." Sarcasm began to soak all of my words, "Just save all of your bloody 'old man' comments for some other time idiot, I can not deal with you when it is so hot."

I turned my back indignantly and began to wade into the cool, refreshing water. I let a pleasant calm feeling wash over me as I proceeded to go deeper and deeper, past caring if I was soaking my day attire as the water came up to my waist. I had a back-up shirt and pants for the night, so I would simply wear those.

I glanced back at America, only to see him still staring at me. What the hell? Okay, I realise that I am not as tall or muscly as that idiot, and my hair is currently stuck up in all manner of weird angles because the heat had gotten to it, but that really is no need to be so blatantly rude! So what if I'm not tanned like him? It's not my bloody fault the weather in my home country does nothing for my complexion, leaving me with a completely pale skin tone. It's not like I'm overweight or anything, unlike how he will be if he keeps up his ridiculously unhealthy diet. Perhaps getting stranded here will be good for him at least, because he won't be able to consume any junk food.

Whatever, what do I care if he looks or doesn't look? As far as I am concerned, I should just make the most of this situation and give my self some well needed 'me time'. I took a deep breath and ducked down under the water, loving the way the water would envelop me and make me clean again. It really had been quite some time since I'd been in the sea like this. Back in my pirate days, I would often relax by going for a swim in the sea- not in England of course, it's bloody freezing there! But in places like India or... America...

I came back up for breath and rubbed my eyes free of the salt water, smiling contentedly because although the amount of tension between me and America is actually ludicrous, the sea always put me in a good mood. I looked back towards the main land, half expecting to see America still gawking like an idiot, but he wasn't there. I quirked an eyebrow and began to scan the expanse of land that I could see, but he was absolutely nowhere.

I sighed and muttered, "If that git has gone and gotten himself lost then I swear-"

"BOO!"

x~x~x~x~x

"BOO!" I yelled, springing up from where I had ever so cleverly concealed myself underwater.

"W-What the-?" Using my super reflexes, I managed to grab England's arm before he completely fell into the water. I grinned, "Did I make ya jump?"

"What the bloody hell do you think you are playing at you idiot?" he exploded, clutching his chest to indicate he was in shock.

I just laughed, "I'm just trying to have some fun dude!"

"Well go and do it elsewhere," he muttered, pulling his arm out of my grasp before looking me up and down properly. "What on earth happened to your shirt?" he observed.

"Oh I ditched it back there," I said, jerking my thumb back towards the island, "It really is too hot to wear one today."

"Exactly," he huffed, pouting at me, "So then why were you staring at me like a bloody idiot when I drew that very logical conclusion?"

"Oh, no reason dude! Hahaha!" I scratched the back of my head and turned away slightly.  
>Damn, it was <em>that <em>obvious I was staring? Well in my defence, I was totally caught off guard! I mean, I was trying to fix the radio when all of a sudden England started stripping! W-Well... I'm not complaining of course, but still! How could I _not _stare? His fair skin looked even more radiant in the sunlight, and he appeared to have a sort of glowing complexion to him because of the sweat glistening whenever the sun hit him in just the right way. His skin was completely flawless as well, just like a blank canvas...

Urgh, I should be shot for thinking like this.

I glanced at England, who was currently looking at me with a perplexed expression.  
>His blonde hair was dripping with water, and the sun's rays reflecting off of the sea's surface illuminated his beautiful emerald eyes. I quickly turned around for fear of being caught staring again, making it look as though I was surveying the area on which we had been marooned.<p>

"Oi! What's wrong with you?" he asked in something that actually sounded like concern. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around so that we were facing each other. "Your face is completely red," he observed, keeping his voice even but his soft, rosy lips pursed in worry.

"Nothing at all, you're totally imagining things man!" I said, trying to look away. He wouldn't let me, and held me in place. "Look, it would be a pain in the arse if you suddenly died while we are here. If you want to die, do it when you can afford to." He looked at me more closely before saying to himself more than me, "I wonder if the sun is getting to you..." He reached up and felt my forehead, while I just stood completely still. God, just his touch on my forehead is sending small vibrations rushing through my body. I quickly grabbed his hand and moved it away.

"America?" he asked, before saying, "I need to see if your temperature is too high you idiot! Don't expect me to drag you back to the shore if you faint out here!"

I wasn't listening to what he was saying and tried to divert my vision, not meaning to look down and- _holy crap his shirt is see through!_ His shirt is see through! The water was causing it to cling to his lithe frame, outlining every curve to England...

If I was red before, then I must be scarlet now.

"Hey, America! Are you listening?" He moved in closer, _closer_. He was moving in closer while his top was completely see through and he was obviously completely oblivious to just how _damn sexy_ he looked which just made him vulnerable and there's only us on the island oh my _God_ what the hell should I do? In all honesty I just want to grab him, to kiss him, to run my hands along his slender body... but no! C'mon, I need to be the hero and show self control! _Self control!_

"America?" he spoke again, and just the sound of my name falling from his lips was making me crazy. This has totally got to be the heat getting to me, usually I am much better than this! I totally am! At this rate I'm going to-

"Catch me England!" I said a bit too enthusiastically in my frantic panic to figure out a way to distract myself. I immediately ducked under the water and began to swim for all I was worth, trying to just calm down. Okay, so my idea of a 'friendly swim' kinda backfired, but as the hero I claim no responsibility whatsoever and blame it on the delusional state of mind I have entered due to being lost on some island somewhere.

I made it back onto the island and gasped for breath, laughing slightly as I realised that what was initially meant to cool me down just ended up having the opposite effect.

"Aw man," I sighed, going back over to the useless jet to see if I could get the radio working again, "I gotta watch it. England will get suspicious if I keep acting weird. All I need to do is focus on annoying him for now..."  
>I frowned, partly because the radio <em>refused <em>to cooperate but mostly because it sucks having to act like an ass... okay, granted I have the tendency to annoy people sometimes, but I'm the hero so I'm always forgiven! However, treating England this way is the only thing I can think of. If I don't do this, then he completely ignores me, and I'm smart enough to know that if I randomly came out and said, "I love you" then it would backfire painfully.

Hey universe, mind giving me some help here?

x~x~x~x~x

I stared into the fire, watching the mesmerising reds and oranges and yellows mingle with each other in their fiery dance. I rested my cheek in my hand, slightly depressed that we didn't have any marshmallows with us because this was the absolute perfect fire for roasting them. I glanced over to England, who was busy checking to see if his clothes had dried out from earlier. He at least had the sense to bring some extra clothes, so he was in a more casual blouse that looked quite worn. His pants had managed to dry in time, and as he made his way over he grabbed his previously discarded jacket from the beach and put it on. He had a neutral expression on his face, but I could sense that he was unimpressed to say the least. He sat opposite from me, and also began to let himself get hypnotised by the flames.

Conversation between us had sort of died after the sea incident, because I went off in search of food from trees while England hung back to see if he could catch any fish. In all honesty, I didn't think he would succeed, but when I came back he had actually managed to catch five! He snorted when he saw my shocked face and said, "I used to be a pirate you git, something like this is elementary for me." Apart from that, hardly any words have been exchanged between us. I would try and come up with a topic of conversation, but I've been sat here for well in excess of ten minutes and come up with absolutely nothing so far. It dawned on me that I don't really have any idea of what England likes, his hobbies, any common interests we may share... I thought I knew him well, but it appears as though I know next to nothing.

I wonder if there will come the day when I'll find out the personal, trivial stuff. Just the little things like what toothpaste he prefers or his favourite flower, just junk like that. It may seem kinda stupid, but I really want to know.

I retrieved my bomber jacket from where it lay next to me and put it on, the island's temperature completely dropped when the sun left.

"This is a bloody nightmare," England muttered, probably just thinking out loud.

"It ain't so bad," I said, trying to put a positive slant on things.

"Oh of course not," he said sarcastically, looking up from where he had been engrossed in observing the fire. "We are stranded on an island that probably isn't even on the bloody map with little hope of rescue, but it 'ain't so bad'? Yeah right." He rolled his eyes and resumed gazing into the fire. "Then I just _had _to get stranded here with you."

Ouch.

"Yeah? Well being stuck with you is the worst fate imaginable," I retorted, noting how he barely showed a reaction to my words.  
>I didn't mean them of course (although I don't think he knew that), after all the fact that I even got to come on this assignment with England had nothing to do with 'fate' at all. It was all because I rigged that pencil draw the other day. I was pretty proud of myself actually; before I joined up with the Allies I had read a few books (most of them hero stories). There was this one where the main character had totally sweet mind control, and so for a while I became totally obsessed with the idea and (attempted) to read loads of complicated books on the issue so that I could figure out how to get the same power. I ended up giving up after about half a day because I figured that heroes don't become heroes by reading- they become heroes by charging in and saving the day! However, I did read a chapter about something called 'guiding and influence', which is a cool way of making people choose what you want them to choose. I actually didn't think it would work, especially on Russia cuz that dude is way freaky and I swear he is immune to anything and everything, but somehow they picked the pencils I wanted them to, leaving me with the red tipped one.<p>

I pulled myself out of my thoughts as England got up in order to button his jacket up. "It's bloody freezing," he muttered.

"Well don't look at me to warm you up," I said tersely. I didn't really think about it, I just seemed to be on auto-pilot. Of course I felt harsh about it, but at least it was safer this way. I'd never forgive myself if I went and did something stupid.

"I wasn't implying such a thing!" England huffed, doing up the final button and sitting down with an indignant "Hmph!"

Silence.

Man, is there seriously nothing we can talk about? It was after about ten minutes of silence that it was getting ridiculous. I was about to break it, but England suddenly got up and walked about fifteen metres away to where we had set up an assortment of leaves as a sort of mattress thing. We hadn't thought putting a shelter above us was necessary because the chance of it raining seemed next to impossible.

"I'm calling it a day," he called, lying down and staring up at the stars for a bit before he closed his eyes.

x~x~x~x~x

I can't sleep at all: It's bloody sub zero temperatures now! This is simply ludicrous, it was so hot earlier that it was unbearable, but now I think I am actually going to freeze to death.

I've been lying here for what I'm sure is a few hours now, and I'm shivering terribly. My jacket is proving to be utterly useless, and the blouse I have on underneath is quite thin and so that offers no protection from the cold whatsoever. America came over ages ago, and I'm pretty sure that he is already asleep. Well of course he is, he has that damn jacket that I'm sure keeps him nice and warm, while I'm busy suffering and running the risk of catching pneumonia.

I moved onto my back, glancing over to look at the sleeping nation next to me. Why we hadn't thought to build separate makeshift mattresses is a mystery to me, but I guess we can't argue if we are both asleep, or at least if one of us is asleep. I took a moment to just look at him while he slept; he seemed peaceful. It was actually hard to believe that this was the same cocky git I had just about grown accustomed to now. I let out a sigh and tried to rapidly steer my thoughts away from thinking about how similar this was to the time America wanted to sleep under the stars back when he was a child.

He had begged and begged to try it at least once, because he was intent on being a 'brave explorer' or something along those lines. He insisted on not needing any shelter, claiming that he wanted to look up at all of the stars. I spent ages telling him stories and his eyes would light up, and then he would listen intently as I pointed out all of the visible constellations. He would always repeat them after I had said them, as if trying to commit them to memory.  
>I guess I'll admit it: I miss that America, the one that used to love me. All I am stuck with now is an idiot who I refuse to believe I raised (I mean, how on earth could he be like this after all of the bloody time I spent on teaching him manners and etiquette?) who has taken to insulting me every damn second. Okay, I do the same, but that's only because he started it!<p>

Wow, that sounds so childish.

But it's true. I just wanted to stay out of his affairs, but he just gets me so annoyed to the point that I feel as if I am going to explode if I don't retort.  
>A particularly icy breeze summoned itself up then, and my sentimental reminiscing was cut off as I shivered violently. I turned back onto my side, facing away from America because the more I look at him the more painful memories resurface. I carried on shivering of course, it really was unbelievably cold- and that certainly is saying something considering my country isn't exactly warm. I thought I was used to weather like this, but clearly I was wrong.<p>

I sighed and closed my eyes, knowing that sleep for me tonight was nigh on impossible but deciding to at least try it anyway.

All of a sudden: warmth.

I opened my eyes slightly, wondering why I suddenly felt warmth around my waist, before I realised with horror that America had shifted right up close to me and had casually draped his arm over me.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" I half whispered half yelled, my eyes now wide open.

"You're shivering," he said simply.

"I thought you were asleep!"

"Nope, the hero can't sleep when there is someone in distress." He edged closer, snaking his other arm under me so that I was in what I could only describe as some sort of vice grip.

"Unhand me at once you git!" I said, trying to struggle and get free.

"Why? You're warmer this way right?"

Damn. I couldn't really deny that, America seemed to be radiating heat like the bloody sun. I noticed how I had completely stopped shivering now, and he wasn't exactly holding me in an uncomfortable way either. In fact... it _almost _seems kind of nice...

NO!

What the bloody hell am I thinking? I have to get free! I don't want to have anything to do with America!  
>I resumed my earlier struggling, but he refused to let go.<p>

"Just go to sleep dude," he yawned. Is he doing this on purpose, just to piss me off or something? Does he not find this weird? Although, he must be half asleep so I guess he can't be thinking clearly.

I struggled for a few more minutes, but gave up when it got the point when I was literally gasping for breath because, try as I might, there was no escaping America's arms.  
>And so, I tensed. What else could I do? This feels so surreal, and so I lay there like a statue and seethed silently to myself. God this is so embarrassing: trapped here because of a sleepy America who has no self awareness at the moment. But there is no arguing with the fact that I really am much warmer now.<p>

He leaned over me, and I stopped breathing. Just what was he planning? I stayed still in statue form, not moving a single muscle.

"You can relax ya know," he whispered right into my ear. I shivered for the millionth time that night, although this time it wasn't because I was cold. His hot breath tickled my neck, and the way he lingered over me was beginning to make me feel slightly nervous.

"How can I relax when you're clinging to me, git?" I asked as forcefully as I could.

He chuckled lightly and yawned once more, settling back down and pressing our bodies flush against each other, nuzzling my neck with his nose.

"I-Idiot!" I said, seeing if I could get free once more, but it was useless. The positive of this situation: I am now extremely warmed up. The negatives of this situation: _Everything else!_

"Jus' go t' sleep En'land," he said sleepily, wrapping his arms slightly tighter around me.

This feels weird, just what the hell should I do? I've done everything I can to get away, but somehow he still has idiot strength even when he is half asleep. After a brief moment I could hear his breathing become even, indicating that he had finally fallen asleep. I tried in vain one last time to free myself, but there was still no way I could escape, and so slowly, cautiously, I let myself gradually relax. This whole thing is completely bizarre, but I eventually settled down and let my eyes fall closed.

He is going to feel like a complete idiot in the morning when he realises what he had done in a semi-conscience state. It has nothing to do with me at all, I should just be grateful for the heat source.

_Ba-thump._

Even so, I could feel my heart beating slightly faster. I chalk this up to lack of sleep however, and the initial shock of being here like this. I'm sure it shall return to normal in a few minutes.

"Mmm, night England..." America whispered against me while fast asleep, his arms still protectively around me.

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump._

What the hell? God, I am going to kill him tomorrow morning!  
>"Stupid git," I mumbled, but I closed my eyes and tried to catch some sleep for the night even so.<p>

x~x~x~x~x

**Haha, awesome half asleep America FTW :P****  
><strong>I read somewhere that in the manga, Iggy and America got stranded on an island, hence where I got this idea from. I hope you liked it~ I'm actually planning more drama for the next chappy, so please look out for the next update ^_^<strong>  
><strong>Well, thank you so much for reading my fic and I really do appreciate those who take the time to review and stuff because they make me ultra happy :D<strong>**

**Until next time~**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	12. Three's A Crowd

**Hello everyone :) I'm kinda ill at the moment which sucks, but at least I have enough strength to type stuff :P****  
><strong>Once again, thank you all for those who have taken the time to review and such, it makes me really happy ^_^<strong>**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Twelve- Three's A Crowd

"Uhn..."

As I slowly cross the barrier that separates dreams from reality, I am vaguely aware that something feels strange. I gave another groan as I prepare myself for the ordeal of opening my eyes, because it always hurts while your eyes take time to adjust once you've woken up. I mentally go over where I left my glasses the previous night so that I was prepared when I eventually did summon up the energy to move out of my sleepy state.

But seriously, something feels strange.

Still not completely aware of everything yet, only just vaguely starting to recognise the sounds of the waves and remembering that I am actually on an island and not some comfy bed, I come to the conclusion that it is time to wake up. It was as I had decided to wipe the sleep from my eyes before I opened them that I finally realised it:

I was holding something.

That's what felt so strange. I opened my eyes slightly, the sleep obscuring my already hindered vision. What have I got in my arms? Whatever it is, it's warm, and soft, and smells faintly of tea...

"Holy crap!"

I snapped my eyes open immediately, sure that I was wrong. There's no way that I have it right! I mean, why would I be cuddling with-

"England!"

What the hell? Why are we so close together? Why am I holding him? Why is he fast asleep and completely at ease with this situation?

Forgive me if I'm wrong, but does this mean that I did something?

I race over everything that happened last night in my mind. Okay, so we were at the campfire, we talked a bit, he went to bed while I stayed sat there for a bit, and then I went to bed as well. That's all I remember, but clearly something else must have happened because otherwise I wouldn't have England in my arms at this current moment in time! Think America, think!

I can't think!

Damn, to have England so close to me like this... there's no way I'd be able to think straight. His back is to me, but that doesn't make this any less difficult for me to try and proceed in a logical fashion.

His svelte body fits perfectly into my arms, and I can feel his steady heartbeat right up against me. His sand blonde hair is splayed all over the place, but somehow this only serves to make him that much more... appealing? Radiant? Cute? Whatever the word, his current bed head certainly doesn't detract from anything at all. And his neck is deliciously exposed, the flawless skin is right in front of me; the urge to mark that tantalising flesh is surfacing at an alarmingly fast rate. His breathing is steady at the moment, but what I wouldn't give to touch him, to make his breathing become faster, to have him calling my name, to have him feel how I feel...

What I wouldn't give to have him fall in love with me.

He is completely out of it, far too enveloped in sleep to notice anything out in the conscious world. That being the case, I wonder if I could steal a kiss? Just a small kiss, nothing more...

"GYAH!" I couldn't help but yell, I needed something to distract myself. I shake my head violently, trying to dispel the thoughts that are flooding my mind. To do something would be bad; England would hate me! But then... why is he sleeping so soundly in my arms?

"What the hell is going on?" I said loudly, as if saying it aloud would provide me with the answer. It didn't, obviously. However it did rouse England.

He moaned and began a similar process as to how I usually went about things in the morning, grumbling and rubbing his eyes free of sleep. But then, he tensed.

"What the bloody...?" he said blearily, shifting around a bit before his voice suddenly turned extremely cold.

"A-me-ri-ca," he said slowly in a voice so scary it could totally rival Russia any day of the week.

"Uwah! S-Sorry dude!" I stammered, not wanting to deal with a murderous England- we are on a desert island after all, who would know if he killed me?

"If you are sorry then let me go you git!" he yelled, any trace of drowsiness completely vanquished within him. It is only at this point that I realise that I am _still _holding him.

"Ah, right!" I said, quickly withdrawing my arms so that we were separate once again. I braced myself for an earful, but also hopefully an explanation as to _how _we ended up like that.

"Did you think it was _funny _to do something like that?" he shouted, "Seriously, what kind of tosser would do something like that? If you think I will let you off easily, then you are wrong you bloody wanker!"

"Wait a second dude, what-"

"Silence!" he wouldn't let me say anything, and got up from the leafy mattress in order to stand over me and look intimidating (which he was totally managing well at this moment in time). "For starters, my name is _England!_ E-N-G-L-A-N-D!" he spelled. "Have you registered that? I am not 'Iggy' or 'dude' or 'man'; the name is England! Secondly, I couldn't give a toss if you were half asleep, that is still not a viable excuse for putting me in a bloody body lock!"

"Hey, it wasn't a body lock at all!" I protested, "I was merely..." my voice trailed off. What should I say? 'I was merely _cuddling up _with you'? Like hell that would go down well. I still don't fully understand what exactly happened.

"England, could you just calm down and explain to me what happened? I totally don't remember a thing!"

"You clearly did it to make a fool out of me," England seethed and folded his arms indignantly. "Pretending to be half asleep yet a valiant hero who would ever so kindly warm me up because it was so cold." He glared at me, and I began to pale.

Just how exactly did I 'warm him up' for him to be so mad at me? Surely I wouldn't have forgotten if I actually...

No. I refuse to believe that's what happened. I'm pretty sure all I must have done was hug him.

"If you hated it so much, why didn't you just move away?" I asked, pouting slightly.

A blush surfaced on his cheeks as he said, "Do not get the wrong idea! It is not as if I didn't try to get away!"

"Oh? Then why didn't you move?" I asked, a small smile forming on my lips. England was _blushing! _That's a good sign, right?

"Because, git, you have stupid strength! I tried to get away but it was bloody impossible! Goddammit, you piss me off!"

Aw man, looks like the blush didn't really have a hidden meaning after all.

"Oh yeah? Well I clearly didn't mean to do it!" I retorted, also getting up so that we were both glaring at each other. At least I've come up with an idea for him to drop the subject: divert his attention to make him mad about something else. I smirked as I said, "No one in their right mind would _consciously _hug you."

"What did you say?" he asked angrily.

"You heard me. Besides, all I was doing was trying to help out. If anything: you should be grateful."

He was visibly shaking with anger at this point, but I held my own. "Just chill out man! The reason you're so stressy is cuz we're here stranded on some island."

As soon as I'd said that, I knew that I had successfully negated having to talk about this issue further, because he exploded into a rant about how being stranded here with me was a 'bloody nightmare'. I simply grinned in triumph, because he was off on a tangent and no longer focused on being annoyed at me in particular. It's kinda amusing how he loses his temper so quickly; I thought he was meant to be a 'gentleman'. I'm not really fussed either way though, because for some strange reason I find England cute when he gets mad.

I zoned out and gazed up at the sun that had already risen a considerable amount. I could tell that it was going to be very hot again today, and so took off my jacket in anticipation for the searing heat to take over once again. I glanced over at our useless mode of transport and thought about what we were going to do, because there's no way we can stay stranded here forever. England was still ranting, although he was now angrily muttering his complaints instead of yelling them, but he seemed content nevertheless to just seethe. Once I felt he had calmed down enough so that he wouldn't start again, I said with a grin, "Don't worry England, I'm the hero so I will get us off this island!"

"How do you propose we do that?" he huffed, glancing around. "There doesn't appear to be anything we could use as a substitute for fuel and if we try and build a raft of some description we will most likely end up dead."

"Wow, great optimism there," I said sarcastically, ignoring the unimpressed look he shot at me. There must be something we can do to help our current situation, however it is admittedly harder to figure out what that something is.

"I'll see if I can find some fruit or something for breakfast," he said and he began to walk off.

"Aw man, I wish this place had burgers!" I moaned, sure that I would start suffering from withdrawal symptoms if I don't get some sort of junk food fix in the near future.

I heard England sigh and a small smile crossed my lips. Just a bit, I want to tease him.  
>"At least if we just pick fruit even <em>you <em>can't screw it up and make it taste bad," I said, laughing when the Brit turned around and yelled something that I'm sure was offensive.

Seriously England, you're just way too cute.

x~x~x~x~x

"Hey America! Any luck with the radio yet?" England called from his spot on the island where he appeared to have collapsed. The heat had returned with a vengeance, and so I could understand why England was just lying there under a tree to keep as cool as would allow.

"Not yet!" I called back, gritting my teeth in annoyance because I've been at this for freaking ages now! I don't understand why it broke down anyways, it's not like we crash landed or anything. We just ran out of fuel and so landed on the nearest expanse of land we could find. Man, this sucks.

I'm sure that if you'd ask people what they would feel like being stuck on an island with only the person they love, they would probably say that they would be happy, maybe even elated. Romantics would see the whole thing as 'fate' and say that the island would become a private haven for the two lovers to enjoy... or something like that.

But if you ask me? I'm scared of screwing up. It's already pretty damn obvious that England isn't exactly my biggest fan, and if left to my own devices for too long then I may very well do something stupid (what happened last night being a great example). I'd like to think that just the two of us being stranded on an island would enable us to grow closer, and find out random facts about each other, and eventually spark the beginnings of something more. That's how it would go in the movies. In reality, however, it seems as though we will continually grow further apart before probably killing each other in the end.

Geez, why the hell is romance not like the movies?

I sighed in irritation and simply gave up. There is no way the radio is going to be fixed anytime soon, and if I continue work on it then it won't be long until the heat finally gets to me and I'll pass out. I make my way over to where England has his eyes closed, probably so that he can concentrate on thinking cool thoughts or something.

"Yo, budge up," I said, sitting down next to him.

"There are other trees you know," he said, not deigning to open his eyes. "I need all the shade I can get, idiot."

"I'm just being nice and keeping an old man some company," I said, smiling a bit when I saw England at least had enough energy to punch me softly on my shoulder.

"Urgh, it is too bloody hot! I hate places like this!" he moaned, leaning back against the tree and opening his eyes slightly.

"Hot places are cool," I reasoned. "Like, if we weren't stranded here, then this would be totally awesome! It's like the beach or something!"

"I only like the sea," the Brit said wistfully, "I could do without the beach aspect of things."

"What? No way! The beach is way epic!"

He shook his head lazily in disagreement. "All a beach is comprised of is sand, and you can't really do anything interesting with sand." He motioned behind us where all of the foliage was, "For example, there may be trees here but there aren't any flowers or anything."

"Pfft, lame! Who cares about flowers?" I snorted, but I was paying careful attention to England's reactions.

"It just so happens that I do care," he huffed. "Roses are the most beautiful flowers on this earth."

"Roses, huh?" I repeated. All right, so roses are his favourite flower. A small grin crosses my face, I'm not really sure why finding out something as trivial as that makes me so happy, but I don't really mind. Maybe I could get England a big bouquet of roses at some point, so then I would be able to see him smile once again. I've noticed that he doesn't smile much at all nowadays, and I can't really recall the days of my childhood all that clearly anymore, but I do remember that I loved England's smile more than anything. Of course, I wasn't about to go saying all of this lovey-dovey stuff to England, and so I simply said:

"Meh, roses are okay but they're kinda boring- just like all flowers."

"You have no appreciation for anything, do you?" he asked in exasperation.

"Course I do dude! I appreciate burgers! And milkshakes! And heroes! And awesome action movies! And-"

"Shut up, it is actually painful having to listen to the rubbish you appreciate." I was about to protest to the snide comment, but I was thrown off my train of thought when I heard the sound of a plane overhead. England heard it too, and so without hesitation or regard for the boiling weather we both got to our feet and began waving madly in an attempt to get the plane's attention. We yelled as loudly as we could, but then it suddenly dawned on me that this may very well be an enemy plane- in which case we are screwed. I looked at England who had also stopped yelling, appearing to have come to the same conclusion because his lips were pursed and he had a worried expression.

The plane landed, and I could feel my heartbeat racing. _Please let it be an ally, please let it be an ally, please please please, _I chanted in my head over and over again. I felt the sleeve of my t-shirt being pulled on slightly, and when I glanced down I saw that England had grabbed a hold of it. I guess he's just as nervous as me, so I shot him a reassuring smile before we both looked on to see who would emerge from the aircraft. I didn't hold out much hope for my prayers actually being answered, half expecting an uptight German to come striding out of the plane and take us prisoner, but it seemed as though luck was on our side today.

"It's them, we found them!" a familiar voice sounded before three very recognisable countries appeared at the door of the plane.  
>I let out a huge sigh of relief and grinned at England. "Lucky, right?"<br>He nodded slightly and looked at the ground, letting go of my sleeve.

Huh? What's with the subdued reaction?

"Honestly, aru! I didn't think that you would end up getting lost!" China said angrily, walking up to us both but he did look slightly concerned. "You two look rough, aru," he observed.

"That may be because we've been stranded on an island," the Brit muttered sarcastically, but China let the remark slide. I could see Russia peering at us from the plane, a delighted expression written all over his face. I had a pretty good idea of what he was thinking: seeing America and England suffering like this is most delightful, kol kol. Yeah, my hero analysis must be correct.

"China, dude, how did you find us?" I asked.

"Well when we hadn't heard from you I knew that something wasn't right. We realised that you must have gotten in an argument and gotten off track, and so we took a look at secluded places you could have ended up, aru."

Well, that certainly was convenient. Are we really that predictable?

"Angleterre~!" France cried out, running up to us dramatically with his hair blowing around in some non-existent breeze, a red rose decorating it. He clutched a white handkerchief to him, before throwing it over his shoulder theatrically and practically diving on England.

"What the-?" England began, but France hushed him.

"I was so worried~" he drawled, "I thought that I would never see those stupid eyebrows or get to make fun of your awful cooking ever again!"

"Unhand me at once you bastard!" England yelled, but France continued to cling to him nevertheless.

"It appears as though this 'ot weather 'as not made you any more docile," he pouted before neatly dodging out of the way of England who attempted to kick him. "I was just being nice~" he hummed.

"Shut up frog," England mumbled, "I cannot be arsed dealing with you today."

"Hmm... 'ow about I make you some fabulous French cuisine when we get back?" he smirked.

"I would rather die than eat your cooking," the Brit said firmly.

"Trust me, if you carry on eating your food then you really will die."

"I swear I will kill you, you Goddamn bearded tossbag!" England yelled, but his energy levels were severely depleted due to the heat and so France easily dodged before casually draping his arm around him.

"I missed you too~" France hummed, winking. He pulled the rose out of his hair and handed it to England. "Your favourite, non? This should put you in a better mood~"

"Don't mock me," England scowled, but he took the rose anyway.

I just stood there, staring at the odd interactions between the two of them. I could honestly swear that they hated each other; didn't they always fight? Didn't France want to see England broken or something? So then _why _did he always come up with a way to get closer to him? _How _does he manage to stay so calm when they fight? _What _is the relationship between the two of them?

France glanced towards me and smiled. "Ah, it is good to see you as well, America~"

I simply nodded, but fixed on a poker face. I think France definitely noticed this, because he smirked slightly and pulled England closer. "I hope you were nice to _my _little Angleterre," he purred.

_His? _

"Get off of me you damn Frenchy!" England protested, struggling before finally escaping the other blonde's grasp. France chuckled and blew him a kiss, to which Iggy spat out, "Screw you."

"Is that a request?" he grinned.

"Do you have a death wish?" the gentleman threatened.

I can't be sure of this, they certainly don't act like a couple, but then again... there are always small hints. This may just be paranoia talking, but there are small things like subtle touches, or glances, and the fact that if they really want to then they can get along without fighting- at least for a few hours anyway. So then does that mean that the two of them really are together?

No.

I refuse to believe that, it just can't be right.

"Let's just get back, aru," China sighed, proceeding to walk back to the aircraft. England followed, leaving just France and me behind.

"'ave fun?" he asked, looking at me with an amused smile.

"Not really, being stranded kinda stinks," I said, watching him carefully.

"Is that so~?"

I nodded blankly, gazing out at the ocean before turning back. "Hey, France," I said, looking at him seriously. "How did you know he liked roses?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked simply. "I've known Angleterre for countless centuries, it would be weird if I _didn't_ know 'is favourite things, non?"

He... has a point. If I think about it, then France and England must have known each other long before I was born. The fact that he has so many years on me... pisses me off.

"Hn~ That annoys you, doesn't it?" he asked, as if reading my mind.

"What? No way dude, haha!" Covering is the only way to deal with this, I'm not about to tell France he's totally right. "Why would I wanna know something like that?"

"Why indeed~" he chuckled slightly, flicking his hair out of his eyes. "I guess it doesn't really matter. After all, _I'm_ the one that knows 'im the best." He glanced at me, and I could see that he was enjoying this to no end. I clenched my fists, but I remained calm and thought up a really cool way to find out if my suspicions were correct.

"You know him _that _well? Geez, as if you two old men haven't killed yourselves yet! Unless, you actually don't mind each other."

"That's an interesting idea," he mused, "But I think we should be getting back, oui?" He started to walk off, but I called after him.

"Hey, dude! Does that mean I'm right?" Please say no...

He stopped in his tracks. He didn't turn around, but he said something quietly. I had to strain to catch what he said, but I just about managed to make it out:

"Do you know why I 'elped you all those years ago? It was because it wasn't fair for you to 'ave Angleterre all to yourself."

"Wait a sec, what are you-"

"I could tell 'e was 'appy when you were 'is brother, it annoyed me. When I 'eard you were going to end that, I thought I'd 'elp. Of course it was worth it to see Angleterre break, but it was also interesting to see 'ow you thought throwing everything away would bring you closer somehow. I'd say that it 'ad the opposite effect, oui?"

What is he on about? I had a sneaking suspicion back then as well, but does this mean that he really did know the reason why I wanted my independence so badly?  
>I just stood there, completely speechless and unable to form coherent sentences.<p>

"Time is ticking America," France said seriously, turning around to face me. "If you're not careful, everything will 'ave been for nothing. Well, either that or someone else is going to steal 'im away from you."

"I have no idea what you mean dude," I said as if I couldn't be bothered with this conversation. However I am unable to make eye contact, instead opting to stare at the golden sand all around us. My heart twists painfully, probably because I know that he's right. But someone else stealing him away? Does he mean someone like himself?

"You're just as stubborn as Angleterre," France murmured. "Good luck America, you're going to need it," he laughed softly, turning around once more to head back to the plane.

Seriously, what can I do? I can't do anything but act like how I'm acting now! This is a delicate situation, and one wrong move could mean that everything has been a waste of time.

I just... have no idea on what I should do...

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2627-_

_I think I'm getting more selfish._  
><em>I thought that just being by England's side would be enough, but then I wanted him to acknowledge me.<em>  
><em>I then thought that just having him acknowledging me would be enough, but now I want him to rely on me. I want him to see me as someone he can't live without. <em>  
><em>I don't mind waiting for as long as it takes for my feelings to get recognised, but then...<em>  
><em>If all I do is wait then maybe what France said will happen, and I'll lose him.<em>  
><em>What would be the best way to proceed in this situation?<em>  
><em>I'm so confused, I don't even know if France is here to help me out or if he's the competition.<em>  
><em>England... how should I go about bringing us closer?<em>

x~x~x~x~x

**Is France also after Iggy? Or is he simply there to troll America? And will Iggy stop trying to doge America and allow himself to be more open-minded? Just how will America go about bringing them closer?****  
><strong>So many questions need to be answered! Look out for the next update~<strong>**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	13. It's The Small Things

**Hey everyone :) Well I'm feeling better in terms of health but school have decided to set up a plethora of evil tests so sorry for the late update. We break for the holidays soon though, so more updates then hopefully~! ^_^****  
><strong>Warning: Contains language :P<strong>**

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Thirteen- It's The Small Things

I can't sleep.

Normally this wouldn't bother me as much as it is now, but the fact of the matter is: I haven't been able to sleep for the past week. I can get close. I can get to the point where I'm _almost _drifting off, but then a cold shiver runs through me and I find myself wide awake once again.

I turn over, trying to find a more comfortable position to sleep in but it's fruitless. I heave a sigh and eventually sit up, propping myself up against the fluffy pillows and folding my arms so that in the unlikely event of any random passers by seeing me, they would understand that I am _not impressed_.

I'm not usually cold at night. If I am then I just add a blanket or something similar, yet here I am lying in my usual comfy bed with a grand total of _six _bloody blankets and duvets, as well as wearing a damn sweater but none of it is helping at all! It's as though I've lost a heat source that was apparently critical to letting me drift off. This of course is completely ludicrous; I haven't lost or changed anything in regards to my sleeping routine.

"Why can't I just get to sleep?" I mutter under my breath, not really sure who I was addressing but I still waited for some form of reply that inevitably didn't come. In all honesty, part of me knows the answer to that question. Somewhere in the very back of my mind the answer is screaming at me, but I refuse to pay any heed to it because it just can_not _be true.

Yet in comparison to the supposed answer on my mind, the fact that I cannot sleep becomes rather insignificant. The thing that _really_ pisses me off the most is the fact that I can remember when my last good night's sleep was. This may seem strange, the notion that me being able to remember the last time I slept well irking me, but on that night... if I am completely and utterly honest: I had not slept that well in a very long time, I cannot even recall the last time I had slept so well. And that is the most annoying thing of all, the fact that that remarkable night's sleep was the night I was with America on that island.

The night I was essentially lying in his arms (even if it was against my will).

The feeling of safety, the feeling of security, the heat emanating off of him... that is why I can't fucking sleep! I can't erase the damn memory no matter how hard I try, and now I can't get to sleep!

I hate not being able to sleep.

I hated that night when we were stranded.

I hate him.

_Ba-thump._

"GAH! I AM THE FUCKING UNITED KINGDOM! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?" I pull at my hair, I yell, I do anything to distract myself from thinking about that night and of America. I honestly did hate it! I did!

But I've started to notice things. They are only small things, but in the end it is those small things the render me incapable of thinking of anything else apart from America...

Just small glances, or a small favour he does for me, or how he cheerily greets me in the morning with that dazzling grin of his...

_Ba-thump._

No! There is also the converse! He is an idiot, he is a glutton, he is annoying, he pisses me off so damn much! He uses every opportunity he can to get on my nerves! So what if he is _occasionally _bordering on the parameters of decent? Most of the time he is a total pain in the arse and is someone who I have absolutely no desire to interact with.

At all.

Ever.

_LIAR! _a voice within my head screams, but I have to block it out, I can't allow myself to acknowledge it. If I do, then I'll realise that I really have been thinking of nothing but him, and that is not acceptable.

"He hates you remember? Plus he was bloody unconscious that night! And he only does those small things to play to his stupid hero fixation! Get a bloody grip and stop thinking of all of this bullshit!" My shouting that doesn't help anything at all. I need a better distraction, something that has the capacity to annoy me even more than these ridiculous thoughts...

I fling the multiple duvets off of me and exit my bedroom, suddenly struck with inspiration. I make my way to the nearest phone and pick it up, ringing the number as quickly as possible in anticipation for my distraction to answer. After what seems like an infinite number of rings, a sleepy and croaky voice finally picks up the receiver on their end.

"Uhn... Bonjour?"

"Hello bastard."

"Angleterre?" came France's bleary voice. "What are you doing ringing me at such a time?" He sounds annoyed, good.

"I cannot sleep, and the sound of your voice bores me to no end. I am pretty sure I'll be sound asleep if I hear your stupid voice for even two minutes."

"Oh?" he asked, clearly starting to come out of his sleepy state. "You sure you didn't just want to 'ear my sexy voice?" he chuckled.

"France, do not make me want to be sick," I said coldly, but he simply laughed and paid no heed to my cynical comment.

"Perhaps Big Brother can help then, why can't you sleep?" he asked.

Like I'd tell him. "That is none of your concern Frog!"

"Angleterre, what 'as been with you lately? I'm guessing you've not been able to sleep for a while, you 'ave very unappealing bags under your eyes, so not cute."

"Why the bloody hell would I want to be cute, wanker? Look, I need a distraction at the moment and you are my best bet."

"A distraction eh~? Oh I like the sound of that very mu-"

"Not like that you goddamn pervert!" I yelled, ignoring as he voiced mock hurt.

"You wound me Agleterre!" he said dramatically, "Do you want to make me cry?"

"Shut up bastard, look we're going drinking tomorrow."

"We are?"

"Yes."

"Fine, but that means you 'ave to be nice to me tomorrow if you expect me to look after you when you get completely drunk~" he hummed.

"The hell I do! You still owe me from the last time we went drinking!" I reminded.

He chuckled as he said, "Ah, oui. Very well then, it's a date~ See you tomorrow, mon cher~!"

I rolled my eyes and put the receiver down, glad that I could at least get smashed tomorrow seeing as we had a day off after. It may seem strange to think that France and I would make very suitable drinking partners, but it has always been that way for a long time now. At first we only drank together because we both like alcohol, only... we like it a bit too much. In fact, no one else could actually keep up with the rate in which we consumed alcohol, and so we naturally became drinking partners. Since we don't care for each other, we would often leave the other to their own devices if they got drunk. I recall the time when France was so out of it that he completely stripped and went running all over the town, only that town just so happened to be London in the winter months. Long story short, he passed out in the square surrounded by loads of snow and nearly died of hypothermia. I would be lying if I said I didn't find that absolutely hilarious, only I have to admit that I'm not really much better.

It got to the point where we tended to come within an inch of death almost every time we went out drinking, and so we came to a sort of arrangement whereby we agreed to let our deep-rooted hatred for each other take a back seat and we would unite over our love of alcohol. This included taking care of each other when we really did get off of our faces. As I was the one responsible for dragging that bloody Frenchy back to his house last time, it is my turn to drink to my heart's content while he ensures that I stay alive. It's not a bad deal in all honesty, the only downside being that I have to put up with that stupid French tosser as my drinking companion. However as soon as I exit my sober state that doesn't really cause any problems, and I know that I can at least rely on him to get me home safely and vice versa.

I pad back into my bedroom and stare blankly at my bed for a moment. I know there isn't even any point in trying to get to sleep, as soon as I try then I'll just start to think about America again and-

Damn.

_Ba-thump._

I seriously hate him...

x~x~x~x~x

I yawn and wipe my eyes free of any stray sleep as I make my way towards the building that is to be used for today's meeting. I suppose that it is a good thing that it's being held in my home country today, I don't think I could face traveling elsewhere while I am currently suffering with insomnia. The cold breeze that whips through my hair almost violently serves to at least keep me awake for now.

In the end I didn't even bother climbing back into bed, instead opting to deal with more trivial matters such as paperwork and filling out reports to give to my boss. It served as a decent distraction, until it came to the part where I had to detail more about the resources available to our allies... I stopped then. This is bloody awful, that idiot should be the last damn thing on my mind! I can't wait until I can just drown it all out tonight.

"Angleterre~!"

I glanced backwards in time to see France making his way towards me with his usual stupid smirk. "You look like shit," he observed when we were at a relatively close distance.

"You _are _shit," I retorted, glaring at the sparkling Frenchy is his stupid flashy clothes. He looks like a complete nutter wearing a cape, yet he claims it to be 'fashionable'. Clearly the French have no sense of fashion at all. The wind is blowing it about everywhere, yet he seems unfazed by this and laughs.

"But I think we can agree that your food is the most shit, non?" he winked.

"You bastard! Take that back right now or else-" I was cut off when France suddenly lunged towards me, grabbing me in a sort of headlock. "Oi! What the bloody hell are you doing you wanker?" I demanded, straightening up slightly only to realise that the infuriating blonde has his arm draped over me. "Unhand me at once! If not then I swear-"

"Bonjour America~! Good morning~!" he cooed. I froze upon the mention of that name and slowly followed France's gaze.

There he was, casually making his way to the meeting building with one hand in the pocket of his bomber jacket and the other holding a burger, which he was currently eating (I use the word 'eating' lightly, it was something much more rushed than that). This is the greedy sod that has been plaguing my thoughts recently, and I mentally groan. He looked up once he heard France calling, his sea blue eyes that are usually sparkling with excitement seeming... guarded in a way. I also noted the lack of his trademark grin, is something wrong? Dammit, why do I even care? It's none of my concern; I should just ignore it.

I am so fixated on trying to stop thinking like an idiot that I failed to notice being brought closer, France's arm still around me. He's leading us over to America, who really does look annoyed about something.

"Mornin'," he grunted, finishing off the burger he had and screwing up the paper it had been wrapped in, shoving it into the depths of one of the jacket's pockets. He gave us a funny look, as if assessing something. I am too caught up in all of these stupid, insignificant details to notice France's smirk getting bigger.

"Ready for the meeting?" France asked.

America simply nodded, still looking at us weirdly. Seriously, this is starting to bug me now! What is wrong?

"I just can't be bothered today~" the blonde drawled. "All of this is such an effort, I 'ope today goes quickly so we can go on our _date _as soon as possible. Right Angleterre?" He pulled me closer to him, my brain only just comprehending how close the proximity between us really was. I shook my head, trying to think coherently.

"What are you-"

"Date?" America asked, his eyes completely devoid of any positive emotions now, but he still maintained an aloof attitude.

"Oui! Angleterre even asked me 'imself this time!" he grinned.

"Oi! Don't go saying weird bullshit!" I snapped, pulling away and glaring at him.

"Oh don't be so shy~ It was cute 'ow you rang me so late at night practically _begging_ me to go out with you tonight," he purred.

What the fuck is he on about? 'Begged'? I didn't beg, I ordered him if anything. And why is he calling this a date? We've been drinking together hundreds of times... although I guess France is a complete pervert and the so-called 'Country Of Love', so maybe him calling it a date isn't that weird? Even so, he's making me sound like some desperate maiden or something!

"You French bastard! I did no such thing and-"

"Ah, I'm sorry Angleterre. Did I embarrass you?" He chuckled softly as he said, "You really do like to be so intimate with these things~"

"Seriously, what the fuck-"

"Ah, well we'd better be going!" he said hurriedly, closing the distance between us and putting his hands on my shoulders, pushing me towards the meeting room. "See you in the meeting America~!" he called cheerily. As I glanced back, all I could see was America staring at us, as if at a loss as to what he should do about something...

My attention was swiftly diverted elsewhere though, and when we were actually inside the main building I finally pulled myself together and escaped that stupid tosser's grasp.

"Just what the hell was all of that nonsense you were spouting?" I yelled at him, giving him a full force death glare.

He shrugged as if he couldn't care less, which was a very stupid move on his part.

I let my anger get the better of me. "You bastard!" I yelled, bringing my arm up to aim a punch at his face. He dodged it and laughed.

"You are too predictable Angleterre!" he laughed.

"Oh, you think so?" I asked.

"I _know _so."

"You really think that I'm predictable?" I pressed, walking up to him so that we were only a few inches apart.

"Oui."

I smirked and dragged my foot across the floor, effectively knocking that damn Frenchy's legs out from under him. He landed with a thud and looked at me in surprise.

"Predictable my arse," I said before walking off.

I really am shit at being a gentleman, aren't I? I chuckle bitterly as I think that, maybe there is just no hope for me, maybe I can't change. Am I still the ignorant delinquent of my past?

I lose myself in my thoughts and am surprised when I find myself at the meeting room door so soon. I open it and proceed to draw the usual caricatures of myself and the others on the board after retrieving the piece of chalk from the desk. My mind wanders as I draw the familiar faces, my hand moving freely as if remembering the lines.

I parade myself as a gentleman, when in fact I don't think of myself as one in the least. My temper is awful, I curse a lot, and I have very little patience. I can see the negatives within me, and they all seem to be the complete polar opposite of what a gentleman is. I can't help but feel I chose to become a gentleman because it was so unlike me. That way I could escape from who I was, I want to leave everything behind. I don't want the past returning, I don't want the memories, I don't want any of it.

I just want a fresh start. To be able to have a clean slate, where I can form new relationships and always look towards the future; to have an optimistic outlook on life... that would be the ideal.  
>I have to start with America. There are too many painful memories; I don't want to bring them back up anymore. So I will stick to my resolve this time and become indifferent. He can make fun of me all he wants, what do I care? He hates me after all, so it's only to be expected of him to act like that towards me.<p>

This is bad; I can feel the familiar dark feelings of depression beginning to creep over me. I should just stay focused and objective... and then get completely drunk once this bloody meeting is finished.

x~x~x~x~x

I have succeeded!

All throughout the meeting America would flick bits of paper in my direction, or be especially idiotic, or just do things that were just plain _asking _to be shouted at, but I handled it all perfectly. I find that just taking a deep breath and thinking about what getting any more involved him would mean, and I can refrain myself from saying or doing anything. It was difficult at first, but I think I've finally become especially inept and remaining indifferent now, at least when it comes to America.

France on the other hand... I have absolutely no bloody idea what's going on in his idiotic brain. For the duration of the entire meeting and all of the breaks he would say needlessly ambiguous things, forever going on about our 'date' and being all touchy feely. I eventually lost it and knocked him out cold when he had the nerve to impose on my private time during the break, which in hindsight wasn't the wisest thing I could have done because I had to make up some excuse as to why the two of us entered the meeting so late once it had resumed (with France making yet more inappropriate comments to which I had half a mind to knock him out again).

One thing that I did notice when I was busy trying to keep calm during America's moments, was that whenever France came into he equation his demeanour would alter slightly. He would become louder, or more irritable, or just look completely different. I wonder if anything is going on between those two?

Ah well, it's none of my concern.

I sit on the low wall just outside the building we had the meeting in, wondering where the hell France was. The meeting ended five minutes ago yet there is a startling _lack _of alcohol in my bloodstream!  
>"Damn that unreliable bastard," I muttered under my breath. The weather this time of year is brutal, and I huddle further into my coat and try to stay warm despite the sub zero temperatures all around me.<p>

"Yo, England!"

I glanced up when I heard the voice of someone that I didn't particularly want to be near at this particular point in time.

"Good evening America," I said plainly, still deigning to keep up with formalities.

As it was already pretty dark at this time it was hard to make some things out, but I swear that he looks pained in some way. Is he ill?

"Dude, what gives? You've totally blanked me all day!"

That's what's bothering him? Why would he even care?

"I have had no need to discuss anything with you today, and arguing with you during meetings is a pointless waste of time. We are in a war America, it is time we took a professional stance on matters."

"Geez, you are such a cynical old man! Stop looking at the negatives dude! Plus ignoring me is way rude, I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman."

"Tch..." Damn, I don't know what annoys me more: the fact that he's getting to me or the fact that he actually has a point. "America, this discussion is useless. I'm sorry if you felt ignored and I will do my utmost to address that. Now if you don't mind, I am actually going somewhere with France tonight and so I don't really have any more time to spend conversing with you."

I stood up with the intention of going in search of France, but America made me halt my movements when he yelled, "I don't freaking get you! I thought you two hated each other!"

I turned around to look at him; he really seemed upset about something. I don't understand what the matter could possibly be, why would he even be bothered by this? "The relationship that France and I share is of no concern to you," I said calmly.

"England!" He stepped forward and grabbed my hands in his, locking our gazes.

_Ba-thump._

God, his touch is so warm... It's impossible to think that the temperature is so cold now, the heat from him being carried all through me. And his eyes...

I'm drowning, drowning in that mesmerising sapphire blue... losing myself...

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump._

"Wh-What are you-?" Damn, my voice is failing. What is with me, why am I acting like this? Or rather: why is _he _acting like this? Why does he do these small, insignificant acts that make me look into things way more that I should? I don't think he's even aware of it...

All too soon, the warmth around my hands is gone and an awkward cough leaves America's throat. "Haha! I totally thought you had something caught in your hair and I was gonna get it out cuz I'm the hero, but I was wrong. Later dude!" He quickly turned around, meaning to head off while I just stood there in complete confusion.

Just what the hell is going on?

"Angleterre~! Sorry I'm late, but I'm ready now!" France called, running to where I was standing. "You ready to go?"

"Yes," I said simply. At this rate, drinking everything in the whole bloody bar won't be enough!

"Hn? America?" France was looking forward, and sure enough America had completely stopped his walking and had turned around. France grinned, "Have a nice evening~ We'll just be off now." We walked past him, and he didn't say a word. I was expecting some comment about how it was dangerous for two old men to be out so late or something, but there was absolutely nothing.

Until I was suddenly pulled back.

"What the bloody hell?" I asked in shock, regaining my balance and looking back. There stood America, glaring at France who simply smirked back. "Oi! America, just what the hell do you-"

"I'll take you!"

"What?"

"I'll take you to the bar, 'kay? Cuz I'm the hero, and it wouldn't be right for me to let two senior citizens wander around getting drunk!"

"You git! Why on earth would I want to go drinking with you?" You're the whole bloody reason I'm going drinking in the first place!

"Don't stress out dude, I'm totally reliable! I can take you home and everything if I need to."

"Thank you for the offer but I will have to decline it," I said curtly. "I have already made arrangements with France and-"

"So what dude? C'mon let's go!" He began to literally drag me by my coat sleeve, and no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels into the ground to stop us there was no helping it. Bloody hell his strength is ridiculous! And this time he isn't even half asleep, there's no way I can win this one.

I looked back at France, wondering why he wasn't doing anything to stop this. He was simply waving with a small smirk on his face. Oh I will definitely kill him the next time we meet! But at the moment, I have a bigger dilemma on my hands.

"America! Let me go, I don't want to go!" I protested, but he completely ignored me. "OI! Are you listening, idiot? I said let go of me!"

"A drink's a drink right?" he reasoned. "So what does it matter who you go with?"

"It matters to me dammit!"

"Why? Why does it have to be France?" he asked, his voice raising.

"Because that's what I've always done! But that is none of your concern, just let me go!"

But I had lost. I knew I had lost.

And so I came to find myself sat behind a bar with America as my drinking companion for the night. As soon as I sat down I immediately signalled for the bar tender to come over.

"What'll it be sir?"

"Scotch, three of them. And then just bring as many shots as you can."

"Are you sure that-"

"Just do it!" I commanded.

"Umm... dude, I don't really think that's healthy," America said uncertainly.

"I don't want to hear that from someone who only lives off junk food!" I snapped. Besides, if _he's _the one I'm here with I'll have to drink twice as much. I came here to forget about him and not have him on my mind all of the damn time! How am I supposed to manage that if he's here with me?

"Don't look so concerned idiot. I can hold my alcohol better than anyone."

x~x~x~x~x

I know England said he could hold his alcohol, but...

"Wha the bloodyyyy hellll are youuu looking attt~?" he slurred, looking at me through completely dazed eyes.

"Dude, you are so drunk."

"Shaddup! I ain't druuunk at all, seee?" He attempted to get off of his chair, probably to attempt to walk in a straight line to prove me wrong, but he gave up after two seconds.

"Screw this," he muttered. "Oi! Bar man! More alcohol~!"

"No freaking way! You aren't gonna have any more! I'm cutting you off!" I said firmly, dismissing the bar guy when he came over.

"Whaaaa~? Who the bloooody hellll dooo youuu think youuu aareee?"

"For once, the sensible one," I sighed.

"France neverrrr cuts me offfff!" he pouted. "Waaaah! You're mean, I haatee youu! I want Fraaaaaannnccceee~!"

Even though I know he's completely drunk, him saying that still pisses me off. What's so special about France? Why do the two of them go drinking together if they hate each other? Seriously, what is their relationship?

England was acting really cold today, nothing I did would provoke him in the least. It was like I was invisible or something… I don't get it, what did I do? Did I actually push him away, like France said I would? Or did he take England from me? Oh man, this is so messed up. In truth, grabbing him and bringing him here was on a complete impulse. Just the thought of France and England alone really got to me. This is stupid, England and I aren't even together, and judging by the way things are now we probably never will be. Yet I still get insanely jealous and over protective.

Damn, this sucks!

"Ah~! That's the stuff!" I looked at England and my mouth fell open.

"Dude! Where did you get those shots from?" I asked in complete shock.

"I'm theee United bloody Kingdom gitttt! Youu cannott keep alcohol awayyy from meee!" He gave a triumphant grin while I literally face palmed. Clearly he had ordered something while I was lost in thought; he's sly when he's drunk. When another scotch was placed before him, I took action.

"No," I said firmly.

"C'mooonnnn!" he moaned. Honestly, he was acting just like a child.

"You've had enough dude! Just stop already!"

"Buuutt I waaannnttt iiittttt!" he insisted, trying to grab the drink from me. He completely misjudged of course, his perception and spacial awareness completely none existent with the amount of alcohol now in his system, and he ended up with his head on my shoulder.

"Huuuhh? You smell different Fraaanncee," he slurred. He then picked himself up slightly and lazily brought a hand up to tug at my hair slightly. "Andd youuu chaangedd yourrr stupiiddd girrllyyy hairr~"

"I'm not France!" I exclaimed, pushing him off of me.

"You're nottt?" he asked in complete surprise, squinting at me to see if he could see better. "Are you a mermaid?"

Oh my God. "No, I am not a mermaid! I'm America, the hero!" I said proudly.

"Americaaa~?" he said slowly, before it became a steady chant, almost like a song. "Americaa~ Ameriiccaa~ Aaaammeerrriiccaaa~"

While I was busy wondering how I was going to get him home in this state (because I never thought he would be _this _bad), he had managed to steal the scotch back that I had taken earlier. He downed it before I had a chance to take it back. "It'ss myyyy rightt!" he claimed. "'sides you should be niiiceee too meee~ I amm mee anddd fdsfghgsggudscfjvb..." his head fell to the bar and he started mumbling incoherently.

"Okay, we need to get you home ASAP dude," I said, getting up from my chair.

"Idddiioootttt~" he slurred. When I moved to get him off of his chair though, he became extremely animated.

"Nooo! I don't wannaa! Noooooo! Leggoooo! Waaahh!" He flailed around as best as he could, but I eventually managed to get him onto the ground. I put one of my arms behind his back to support him, and draped one of his arms over my shoulder so that I could at least try and maneuver him. All the while he kept on mumbling nonsense, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. What would cause him to drink so much? I sighed as he completely gave up trying to cooperate, with me essentially just dragging him along.

"Hey, think you can hold onto me?" I asked, not really thinking he could understand me.

"I'mm noottt an idiooottt!"

"Okay okay. Here then." I hoisted him up onto my back and held his legs in place by putting my hands under them, deciding it would be easier to just carry him there.

Wow... England is really light.

"I don't like it," he mumbled under his breath. "Put me dowwnnn."

"Can't, it's easier like this," I said simply, glad that we were almost approaching England's house. "Honestly, you shouldn't drink so much! You could really damage yourself ya know."

"Shaddup! I don'tt wanna lecturreee frommm youu!"

We eventually made it to his house, and he just about had enough sense about him to pull out his key and hand it to me. I opened the front door and once we were inside, carefully set England back on the ground. I took a brief moment to look at these new surroundings, realising that this is the first time I've actually seen England's house. It's pretty much what I expected, loads of antiques everywhere and a smart, ordered feel to the place. Any items had been neatly put away and arranged, and I could see that the books on the bookshelf nearby had been arranged alphabetically. I couldn't really look for too long though, because there was no way England could keep himself up on his own. He was swaying precariously from side to side, so I steadied him by his shoulders.

"Honestly, you call me an idiot but that makes you a total hypocrite if you get this drunk," I said, gently bringing my hand up to brush aside a stray lock of England's hair that had come out of place.

"Don't!" he said immediately, swatting my hand away.

"Dude, I was just-"

"Let go of me!" he yelled, trying to pull away but his current lack of coordination made that pretty much impossible.

"You're completely drunk! I need to hold you up or else you'll fall, duh."

"I don't care! Just let go of me!" He started thrashing about, nearly toppling over so I had to catch him again. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" he yelled.

"England..." Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he looked so lost. "You really did drink too much. Here, I'll take you upstairs and you can sleep, okay?"

He shook his head, walking backwards away from me and supporting himself up against a wall, tears still flowing from his beautiful emerald eyes. "Don't be nice to me," he said so quietly that I had to strain to catch it.

"What?"

"You hate me don't you?" he asked, before glaring up at me, "Well then act like it!" His words were still running into each other, but he looked as though he was concentrating as much as he could to make himself understood.

"England, I don't get what you're trying to say."

"I'm saying leave me alone! Do you have any bloody idea how hard this is? How miserable I feel all because you are here? Do you have any idea what you did to me?" he yelled.

"Dude, you're drunk. You're not making any sense, let's just-"

"NO! Listen to me! You act like you don't care at all, but then again why would you? You left me, you said you hated me!" His words became harder to get out because he was sobbing so much by this point.

"England..." I moved forward to try and comfort him, but he just yelled at me to stay back.

"I know you hate me! You do mean stuff everyday! Is it any wonder why I tried to ignore you? Why would I want to face your hatred everyday? I want nothing to do with you! I wish you would just disappear! I DON'T WANT TO REMEMBER ANYTHING!" He was shaking, his face was bright red, and as he continued he slowly sank further and further to the floor, until eventually he was just on his knees.

"I can live with you hating me... but... I can't live with you teasing me. So don't touch me, or even act kind to me. Just act how I know you feel, so then I can find it easier to resent you." He looked up slowly, not quite making eye contact with me. "You... hate... you... I... hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU! Why do I get like this? It's all your bloody fault! I _want_ to hate you, I _need_ to hate you, I _have_ to hate you... but I can't! I can't because you are you, and it just pisses me off!" He hung his head, his sand blonde locks falling to cover his face, but I could still see the glistening tears sliding down his cheeks.

"I... I'm sorry..." What else could I say? What do you say to that? I was so sure that England just didn't care about anything, that he had simply forgotten about me after I became independent. But it seems as though I couldn't have been more wrong. I carefully approached him, also getting onto my knees and slowly, carefully, wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry, England."

"Don't..." he said through choked sobs. "Don't you dare apologise! Don't touch me..." But I didn't listen, and kept on holding him. Eventually, he also brought his arms up to hug me back.

"You... you were everything to me..." he whispered. "But you... you just didn't give a damn about me." I could feel the tears on my shoulder, and my heart gave a painful lurch.

"That's not true at all!" I tried to protest, but he clearly didn't believe me.

"Liar! You left! Without a second thought, you just declared independence and left me! I... I didn't want to lose you... but you just wanted to get away from me as soon as possible. It's always been like that, everyone leaves me..."

"No, England I... I can't really explain it now, but that's now how it is!"

"Liar!"

I tightened my hold slightly, pulling him closer. He didn't say anything, just cried away until he eventually whispered:

"Warm..."

"Huh?"

"You... you are so warm... Dammit... I hate you..."

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**I don't really have much to say in this AN... Hope you liked this chapter, and look out for the next update! :) Please review, words cannot adequately describe just how much they mean to me ^_^**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	14. The 'Happily Ever After' Ideal

**Hey everyone :)  
>Xmas is approaching, I can't wait! ^_^ Sadly though, things for US and UK don't seem to be full of cheer : Time to see what went down after that!**

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Chapter Fourteen- The 'Happily Ever After' Ideal

Sunlight is streaming in through the window.

Radiant, sparkling sunlight, who's rays caress everything gently in the early morning hours and bathe it in a glorious heavenly glow...

Who knew the morning sunlight could be this destructive?

My head is throbbing, and I haven't even attempted to open my eyes yet for I can already see the glaring shade of a harsh red from the light that should be soothing to any normal person at this time in the morning. Meaning: everyone who isn't completely and totally hung-over.

I let out a long groan, and my head gives another painful throb.

"Shit!" I curse under my breath, letting out a long string of more profanities when I deign to open one of my eyes only slightly.

The light is blinding, it hurts.

My head hurts.

My throat hurts.

My whole body just hurts so badly... how much did I drink last night? I can't remember a damn thing.

"God I want to die!" I groan, shifting all of my weight in the hopes of spinning over onto my front and burying my face in my pillow to escape the lethal light.

However, I misjudged the distance terribly.

I land with a thud and more pain consumes my entire self.

"Fuck!" I hissed, even more in the way of the evil light as my head carries on pounding. I can hardly move, this is ridiculous.

Seriously, how much did I drink last night?

Surely even France would have enough bloody common sense to know that the amount of alcohol I must have consumed last night wasn't safe in any way shape or form, regardless of any circumstances!

"I'm going to kill that frog," I bite out, lying motionless on the ground and trying to get a hold of things. But then everything began to come into focus, if only slightly.

I wasn't drinking with France last night.

So _that's _why this hangover is seemingly worse than any others I've ever had. Of course it would be, if _America _is the one I was out drinking with.

"God dammit..."

It takes a few minutes, but _finally _basic bodily movement seems to have returned. I cautiously move to sit up, going extremely slowly because I have come to learn that if you try and move at a normal pace while in this sort of condition, you will very quickly end up in yet another comatose state.

The light still has a deadly effect, the curtains haven't been drawn properly. But wait... that's a thought: I'm in my own room. I guess that means that America stayed true to his word and got me home safely... damn him. Does this mean that I owe him in some way? It would have been a hell of a lot easier if he had just left me in some gutter somewhere; I would be able to hate him more easily.

I carefully get to my feet, using my bed to balance me. The room is spinning terribly, my mind still caught in a haze. But then a thought comes flying to the forefront of my mind:

Is America still here?

He wouldn't stay would he? Why would he? But then again that git seems to have no perception of bloody boundaries- always assuming that he can do whatever the hell he wants and be able to get away with it. Well he's got another thing coming if he thinks that's going to wash with me! But then again... he won't be here if I think about it clearly. He hates me, so why would he deliberately go out of his way to stay? Of course he isn't here.

I stumble to the door of my room, clinging onto anything I can for support. It's only a few metres but I'm already gasping for breath, it feels like I've just run for miles.

Drinking was clearly a stupid idea. Not only did I _not_ manage to get America out of my head, I now feel even shittier than before- and believe me, I didn't even think that was possible.

I also reek of alcohol, my blouse all creased from yesterday, my trousers in a similar state. At least America seems to possess a small ounce of decency; France has a tendency to try and strip my clothes when I get that smashed. He never does anything though, knowing full well that his life would be ended the very second I regain a sober enough state.

After an astronomical amount of time has passed, I eventually emerge from my bedroom and make it onto the landing, the long wooden banister of the stairs only a small distance away.

Okay England, just focus on walking in a straight line.  
>It is much easier to think that than it is to actually put it into practice. My movements are stiff, uncertain, putting one foot in front of the other with immense concentration. It really has been a while since I was this bad the morning after drinking, but I can make it through this. Although I am inclined to blame this whole thing on America, I guess that I am also somewhat to blame for actually consuming the alcohol in the first place...<p>

"Oh bloody hell..." I look down at the stairs, is it me or have they become a hell of a lot steeper since yesterday? Yet I can hardly stay stuck up here like an idiot, so I guess I'll have to risk the potentially perilous feat of making it down my stairs unscathed. What am I even hoping to achieve with this though? It's my day off, so wouldn't it just be wiser to stay holed up in my room and... do what?

Wallow in self pity is probably the answer to that one. No, I made a resolve to keep a level head. I can do this! I won't ever drink again!

Heh, as if I haven't made that resolve a million times before.

But still, I need to get downstairs. If I get a cup of tea and some breakfast, maybe this bloody headache I currently have will have the decency to subside and allow me to carry on with life.

I take a deep breath and make my way onto the first step, clinging to the banister for dear life. I must like a complete and utter lunatic at this point in time, but no one's around to see so what does it matter?

Three steps, four steps, five...

This is going rather well.

That is what I thought, but then everything had to go horribly wrong at the thirteenth step, don't you just love irony?

"Damn!" I yelled, my voice all croaky and my throat hurting like hell, but that was nothing compared to the hurt I was most likely going to feel in a few seconds. I slipped, and for a brief moment, everything was in slow motion. I closed my eyes in anticipation for the pain to explode all over. Maybe there is a positive to be found in this? If I get knocked out cold then any thoughts I may have will be put on hold, at least for a little while.

I wait for the collision... but it never comes.

Instead I'm vaguely aware of someone gasping, and the next thing I know is that I'm enveloped in an immense warmth... a warmth that is all too familiar, a bit too damn familiar.

"England! Are you okay?"

I squeeze my eyes shut more tightly, not wanting to look up and acknowledge what I know is the reality.

"Oh my God! Dude, don't die!" the voice is frantic, it does nothing at all to help the splitting headache I currently have.

"I'm not going to die you git," I said stiffly, sighing in defeat as I open my eyes and sure enough: there is America.

To be brutally honest, I would have much rather preferred to hit the floor.

I see relief wash over his features when he realises that I actually am going to live. "So what? I guess I should say 'my hero'," I say sarcastically.

"If you want," he grinned and winked.

_Ba-thump._

Bloody hell, not this again!

"I was joking," I said coldly, "Put me down, idiot."

"Ah, right." He carefully sets me down, the grin fading and a worried expression replacing it.

"What are you doing up? I thought you'd be passed out until well into the afternoon or something!"

"Do not underestimate me, I can handle a little hangover like this no problem at all."

That's a lie, but I'm hardly going to tell him that.

"I guess I should say thank you for getting me home last night, but can I ask why you are still in my house?" I attempted to keep my voice even and look composed, because God knows what state I was in last night. I need to keep up appearances here!

"I'm hardly gonna leave you when you were that drunk!" he said, his expression clearly conveying the idea he was surprised at the question. "A hero doesn't do that at all!"

"Urgh, just stop with this hero bullshit," I muttered under my breath.

"What?" he asked, not having heard me.

"Never mind." I waved my hand in dismissal. "Thank you for your assistance last night, but I would appreciate it if you didn't decide to drag me to a bar with you again in the future. If you want someone to drink with, try Russia."

_And stop teasing me! Just hate me so I can hate you!_

"Hey, England-"

"The door is that way," I interrupted, pointing in the direction of the exit. "I can manage fine on my own now."_ Says the guy with the splitting headache and dizzied vision_, I thought. I began to head towards the kitchen, my back turned away from the unwelcome guest.

"England," he repeated again, more firmly.

"What?" I asked, still not turning around. _Please just go, I really can't handle this at the moment!_

"I... About last night..." he began. "I honestly had no idea that was the case, and I... well, I don't want you to think that I-"

"What the bloody hell are you going on about?"  
>Last night? I can't remember a damn thing about last night. Shit... did I say something weird? I quickly turned around to assess America's expression to see if I could glean anything.<p>

"Umm... well, you said that I- wait... you do remember right?"

No! I don't remember a damn thing!

"Last night is a bit vague for me at present, would you care to fill me in?"

His eyes widened slightly. "So, you seriously don't remember _anything__?_" he pressed.

"For God's sake just spit it out!" I said in irritation, before bringing my hand up to my throbbing head. "Ow..."

"Are you okay? You did drink loads last night."

Thanks for stating the bloody obvious! "I am fine. Now would you please just go?" I meant that to sound more confident, but it just sounded pathetic. It's hard to assert authority when I feel so weak and the room is still spinning.

"I'm not going anywhere until I know you aren't gonna hurt yourself," America said firmly. "After all, you just fell down the stairs! Just leave it to me, 'kay? I'll go make tea or whatever it is and you can just sit down." He moved past me heading towards the kitchen, humming a random tune as he went. This isn't good- I have to get away from him!

"Oi! Wait a bloody second! Don't overstay your damn welcome!" I yelled, my throat burning as I did and the room beginning to spin faster but I'm past caring at this point. I just need him gone from my house, even if I faint after that then I'd still regard that as a result.

"I'm not overstaying it, I'm just doing the decent thing," he said, not turning around to face me but he did stop moving towards the kitchen. "Why are you so adamant that I leave?"

"Oh I don't know. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I quite frankly cannot stand you and hate you," I said coldly, folding my arms indignantly and leaning against a wall in order to steady myself because it feels as though I could collapse at any minute- not that I can allow him to see that. I have to set up some barriers, I need to put distance between us.

A chuckle.

A low chuckle escaped America's lips and he turned around slowly, beginning to head towards me. As my back is currently to the wall, there isn't anywhere for me to run to, but then again it's not like I need to run. I just have to stand my ground.

"You hate me?" he asked carefully, cocking his head slightly. An odd smile is playing on his lips...

"Y-Yes," I stammered. Damn, that needed to sound much more forceful!

"That's not exactly true, is it?" he asked with his voice low, moving in closer until our faces are mere centimetres apart.

_Ba-thump._

"G-Git! Of course it's true! What on earth would make you think otherwise? I honestly hate you!" Yet despite these words, my voice is shaking and they don't sound believable at all. I sharply look down towards the floor, trying to ignore the close proximity between us. But then an idea springs to mind as I just happen to glance right: I can escape!

All I have to do is make a run to the right and I'll be safely away! I shift myself slightly, my intentions probably glaringly obvious because subtlety isn't exactly something present in oneself in a hung-over state.

America sensed this and blocked my escape route, his hands resting on the wall either side of me.

Shit, I'm trapped.

"You wanna know what I think?" he whispered right against my ear, his warm breath causing small tingling sensations to to shoot through me. What the fuck is this? This joke has gone too far!

"Ame-"

"I don't think you hate me at all." He ignored my attempted protest and carried on whispering too damn close to me! The room is spinning faster and faster, I can feel his light breaths brush against my neck, and I've gone all light headed...

_Ba-thump. __Ba-thump. __Ba-thump._

"You're an idiot if you think that," I said quietly, any volume my voice once possessed having disappeared. God dammit!

He lingers for a while, and I just hold my breath. Then he pulls back and grins as if everything is completely normal.

"All right then! I'll go make tea dude, see ya in a bit!"

And then he just walked off.

"What... is with him?" I asked the now empty room, my painful headache, the spinning room and my erratic heartbeat seeming to be my only response. "He's an idiot, I don't care what he says: I hate him..."

_You know you can't hate him, you never have been able to and you never will be._

I quashed the thought immediately, of course I hate him!

...or, intensely dislike him at least...

...or loathe him?

_Ba-thump._

Whatever the name of the emotion, it doesn't matter. I just have to have nothing more to do with America.

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"Oh come on, this is the fifth one!" I pouted at the cupboard before me that did not contain the tea cups that were sure to be around here somewhere. How do I make tea again? Man, I have no idea! I'm much more of a coffee guy personally.

And have I gone completely insane? What the heck was I thinking just now? Cornering England, smart move right there.

I let out a sigh in frustration.

"God America, just get it together!" I flung open another cupboard and yet again no joy, but I did manage to find the tea. That would probably aid in the whole tea making process.

But seriously, just now... it was like my body was on autopilot or something. I never intended to do anything like that! But maybe I did it because France's words were echoing in my head. I can see his point: if I just stand around with my fingers crossed then the odds of something actually happening are... next to nothing.

But aren't they next to nothing anyway?

Well, that's what I thought until last night. I don't know if he was just saying whatever because he was drunk, but it seemed like there was actually gravity behind his words. If I'm to believe what I heard last night, then I can take it to mean that England doesn't actually hate me. That in itself is a major result, all things considered. I honestly believed that he did hate me until he said that.

But even still just because he doesn't hate me, that doesn't equate to him loving me or anything. I mean, I think he definitely dislikes me, or in the very best scenario: doesn't mind my existence. But as far as him just _liking _me goes... I think I have a long way to go- especially if I start pulling stupid stunts like that one just now.

I have come to the conclusion that love sucks- it's painful and makes you do stupid things and makes you act how you don't want to act! I wanna look cool to England, so that maybe he'd think:

'Wow, hasn't America become so mature and awesome? I like what I see here!'

Or... something like that. Yet somehow I've gotten myself into the role of 'annoying dude who doesn't do anything to help himself'. But what other choice did I have when I was backed into a corner?

Annoy England, or have him ignore me?

Urgh, I may as well just toss a coin. Perhaps I should toss a coin for every decision I need to make when it comes to England- because leaving it to chance would probably work a hell of a lot better than whatever it is I'm attempting to do at the moment.

"Aha! Gotcha!" Finally locating the tea cups and having boiled the water, it's time to make the tea. But... hang on, you put milk and sugar in tea right? Or don't you? Can you have black tea? Is it the same as black coffee? As if I've forgotten how to make this! I used to have it all the time as a kid!

But then again, I guess those times are kinda hazy to me now... Ah well, I can always remember some other time. For now, focusing on the present and future should be of top priority, I need some sort of game plan.

"Get ready for the best tea in the world dude!" I said a bit too enthusiastically, probably to make up for the fact that this was probably going to taste awful. I had gotten up pretty early today and mapped the place out in my mind, sure that England was going to be asleep until way later. But there he was now, sat on the sofa that had pillows perfectly arranged on it in various combinations, looking as if he was thinking about something serious.

"Yo, England? I made the tea." I walked up to him and offered him one of the cups. He took it gingerly, eyeing it warily as if it may be poison. He decided that I was at least trustworthy enough to take one sip though, and...

Yeah, I kinda thought I'd get that reaction of him spitting it back into the cup.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, trying to analyse what I had somehow managed to create, because apparently it wasn't tea.

"Well, it's not like I have tea much," I huffed, "I was doing my best!"

"You should just go home already! I am perfectly capable of making a cup of tea that isn't likely to kill anyone!"

"Unlike the rest of your food," I said to the side, but he heard anyway.

"Oi! Where the hell do you get off talking like that you git! I'll have you know... that... ow, damn!" He stopped mid rant, clenching his eyes tight shut while he rested his head in his hands.

"Umm... want me to find some medicine or something?"

"No, I can manage on my own," he mumbled. Geez, why is he so stubborn?

"I'm going to make some decent tea," he said blankly, getting up and taking the undrinkable concoction I had created with him, presumably to pour down the sink... or maybe to try and poison me? He certainly doesn't look impressed at the moment...

I sighed once he had left; my tea-making fail probably hasn't earned me any brownie points. I glanced around the room, wondering if there was something I could do to kill some time until England came back, realising that I was supposed to be the one taking care of everything today.

I'm kinda useless huh? As the hero, I vow to learn how to make tea! (Even if it does taste gross).

I glanced up at the ceiling and the rather impressive crystal chandelier that hung from it, wondering if it ever cast those cool rainbow things around the room when it was sunny before bringing my attention to that bookcase with everything neatly ordered alphabetically and by author. I mooched over, checking to see if he had anything that would be of any interest to me, but they were all long winded books of literature with not one of the titles promising action or adventure.

I did notice a rather impressive collection of books- or I guess plays would be correct- from Shakespeare commandeering two whole shelves. I never really understood Shakespeare, I remember England trying to get me into his stuff when I was younger but all the words were weird and didn't make any sense. Of course I knew the basic premise of the really well known ones though, like Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet.

I searched for where 'R' began and pulled out the latter play, remembering that this is the play that is considered to be one of the greatest love stories of all time despite it ending really badly.

I flipped to the end pages, reading the lines of Romeo's anguish at Juliet who has supposedly taken her life before deciding to take his own. Of course, Juliet wakes up pretty much straight away, only to go through a similar thought process as Romeo before her and killing herself for good this time.

"How depressing," I murmured. This is one of the greatest love stories? Even though it ended in tragedy? I mean, the odds of them being together were always extremely low, but still...

Will my love end in a tragedy?

At least Romeo and Juliet truly loved each other, yet they still ended up broken apart. My love on the other hand, is completely and totally unrequited. So is this just heading in the same direction but at a faster rate? I don't think England and I are likely to end up dead at the end of this though, just... apart. Which is just as bad in my opinion.

"Hey! Be careful with that, Shakespeare signed it himself!" I glanced up in time to see England stood looking at me with a cup of tea in his hand. He pointed to the desk, where he had placed another cup. "It's coffee," he said. "I don't know how you like it, so I just made it black. If that's not okay then milk and sugar is in the kitchen."

"Oh, thanks," I said, smiling before flipping to the inside cover of the play.

_England,  
>Mayest thy love for literature and the theatre continue to flourish.<br>Look after this play well, although I knowest ye will.  
>W. Shakespeare<em>

"Wow, no way..."

"The man was a bloody genius," England said, a faint smile gracing his lips. "He just had such a firm grasp on society and the ideas surrounding it... so many of the issues he brought up are still applicable in this day and age. It really is remarkable."

"You don't think his outlook on love was kinda... negative?" I asked, flicking back through the play to the lovers suicide.

"Well, shouldn't it be?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh?"

"As children, you constantly hear stories about 'true love' and 'happily ever after', but Shakespeare challenged that. If one really thinks about it, how applicable are those concepts? Aren't they just idealistic fantasy that you cannot have?" He took a dainty sip of tea before setting the cup down next to where my still untouched coffee was and scanning the titles with his index finger, pulling out A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"For example, take this play. Shakespeare suggests how easy it is for humans to be manipulated in love, and that love is fickle because it took just one bit of the 'love-in-idleness' for them to fall for completely different people."

"Yeah, but doesn't that just mean they didn't really love each other?"

"I think that may have been one of the messages Shakespeare was trying to say: that it is impossible to love someone completely. Humans naturally change emotions and affections, so with that being the case can true love ever exist?"

"Of course it can! I mean, sure emotions change but sometimes you just _know_ if someone is right for you! Like Juliet for Romeo!" Or like you for me...

He blinked at me in surprise, and I have to admit that even I wasn't expecting that sudden outburst. But for him to throw up all these negatives about love... what about the positives?

"Well, I guess you raise a good point. Yet look how the play ended."

"I don't see why it had to end that way," I mumbled. "Would it have been so hard for Shakespeare to make the ending a happy one?"

"But don't you think their deaths at that point really cemented their love? Or perhaps stopped it from being tarnished and tainted in future years?" He lent back against the bookshelf as he spoke, his voice almost melancholy.

"But... don't you believe in 'happily ever afters'?" I asked.

He sighed and closed his eyes. "I think that we have all been dealt our hands in life, and we should make the most of them in whatever way we can. As for me..." he hesitated, his eyes fluttering open slightly as he stared off into space. "I think... that the chance for a so called 'happily ever after' was not something dealt to me."

"What? You can't mean that, shouldn't everyone at least try and make it happen? Even if it does seem next to impossible, there's always a chance to-"

"Well then..." he looked at me oddly, before turning away and gazing off into the distance once more. "Perhaps I was dealt the happy ending card... but I played it too soon and lost it. My proverbial hand of cards now..." He never finished his sentence, simply pushed himself gently off of the bookcase, retrieving his cup of tea.

"Of course I'd wish for a happy ending, but the universe isn't geared up that way. And so I just try and make the most of what I've got. I'm going to take a shower. If you insist on staying for a while longer then I won't bother stopping you, I'll just step out for a bit until you've gone."

He proceeded to head up the stairs, not looking back but raising his left hand slightly to mimick a wave. "Goodbye America, see you at the next meeting."

I just stared as he eventually disappeared from view, glancing back down at the play in my hands.

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_-Entry 2632-_

_'And they all lived happily ever after...'  
>That's always the perfect ending to a supposedly perfect love. But England had a point: how many people really get a happy ending?<br>Maybe I was just born with more optimism, but I still believe a happy ending can be achievable... somehow.  
>No matter what, I can't let this love I have now end in a tragedy.<br>England said how emotions were fickle and changed... but I've been in love with him for over a century now. There's no way these feelings aren't the real thing.  
>And so England, I know you think they don't happen, and I have no idea how I'm going to do this yet, but:<br>I am determined for us to get a happy ending._

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**Not sure why I had old Shakeybills (yes, my English teacher calls him that XD) making an appearance, but it seemed rather fitting given the circumstances. So America wants a happy ending, but Iggy wants to cut any and all ties... what is up next for these two? Please watch out for updates to find out~ And thank you to all of those who take the time to review ^_^**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	15. A Moment Of Weakness

**Hello everyone~ :) I hope you all had a great Christmas and are having a great 2012 so far :D I'm very sorry for not updating for a while, but I had a bit of trouble getting this chappy out at first. And thank you so much to those who've reviewed, alerted, favourtied and stuff, it may seem a small thing but it really means so much ^_^ Well, on with the story~**

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Chapter Fifteen- A Moment Of Weakness

"I'm sorry, _what _did you just say?"

"That you and America should try doing that reconnaissance mission again, aru. The only reason it backfired is because you never actually got to the destination," China repeated, but I was still having trouble comprehending it.

"Isn't the fact that we were arguing too much proof that we are not suited to work together?" I asked, trying to come up with the logical reasons as to why we couldn't do this as opposed to screaming, 'I DO NOT WANT TO DO ANYTHING THAT REQUIRES ME TO BE ALONE WITH THAT GIT!'

"Well, that's another reason I think it should be you two to do it, aru."

"What?"

"Whether you like it or not, you and America are allies, aru," China said, looking at me seriously. "Maybe doing this could help you two cooperate better, because you're going to have to at some point, aru."

I shifted around uncomfortably in my seat. Damn, he has a good point. I glance out of the window, trying to come up with a counter argument to that, regretting having come in early to the meeting today. China was already here by the time I had arrived, and before I knew it, the two of us were discussing this.

Where the hell is everyone else when you need them? It's been just me and China in this room for at least ten minutes now!

"So? Will you do it, aru?" China asked, leaning forward and propping his elbows up on the table. He was looking directly at me, clearly expecting an answer.

"Well..." I began, still trying to come up with a viable reason not to before _finally_ being struck with inspiration. "It doesn't make any sense if you say that we should do it purely based on the fact that we do not get on well at present. After all, France and I don't exactly have a positive relationship, and it is glaringly obvious that I try and avoid Russia whenever possible."

"So you'd rather do a mission with France or Russia then, aru?" China asked, raising an eyebrow at me sceptically.

Damn, should have seen that one coming. Thinking about this logically, I don't really have the best relationship with any of my allies do I? The only country I seem to be able to tolerate is China, but now he's forcing this on me! Urgh, why the bloody hell did Japan have to go onto the side of that bloody Kraut? Back when I had an alliance with him everything was so much easier!

"That's not what I meant and you know it," I said, sighing as it began to dawn on me that I was fighting a losing battle here. "I just think that if you actually want anything productive to get done, then you should send two people who won't be at each others throats every two seconds."

The Asian country simply smiled and laughed softly. "You two may be like that in meetings, but I know that when it actually comes down to being serious in a war situation, you can put aside trivial things like that, aru. So I really think that you and America should do this mission, especially seeing as we could gain some really valuable information what with Germany and Italy out there at the moment, aru."

I started tracing random patterns on the desk with my index finger and groaned internally, why does this have to happen now? It's not fair dammit! I have been so careful not to be alone with America lately, and to only talk to him when absolutely necessary. Ever since that whole incident where I drank a bit too much (okay, got completely smashed) I've had to be on guard. Letting him into my house like that (well technically he refused to leave, but I didn't exactly kick him out either) just means that our business and personal lives became more entwined, and that is something that I absolutely cannot allow.

"Can't we just do the next mission?" I suggested, not even bothering to hide how much I didn't want to do this any more.

"What's the point in that if you're just going to end up doing a mission anyway, aru? If you hate it that much, you should just get it over and done with as soon as possible while doing an effective job, aru."

Tch, why does he have to make so much sense? God it's so annoying! Maybe I could bribe him by buying him a panda soft toy so that I wouldn't ever have to do a mission with America...

"Fine," I say grudgingly, halting the invisible outlines I was sketching on the desk and looking up at him. "I'll do it, but then I refuse to do another assignment with him again."

"Very well, aru," China smiled, he knew this was his victory.

Before I had any more time to seethe over this new development, the door was flung open and a hyper voice cut through the silence that had befallen the room.

"Mornin' dudes!" America grinned as he bounded into the room. Where the hell does he get so much energy? "Sweet, I'm not the last one here!" he said happily, slurping at a milk shake he had brought with him. "So, 'sup?"

"You and England are going to go on a trip together, aru."

As China had decided to say this while America was halfway through taking a gulp of the completely unhealthy beverage, we soon found some of it sprayed in our general direction as he coughed and spluttered out of what I can only presume to be shock.

He doesn't have to make it so bloody obvious that he's repulsed by the idea! Sure I'm not much better, but at least I try and retain some element of calm and don't go spitting drinks out. God dammit he pisses me off!

"S-Seriously?" he asked, wiping any excess liquid away from his lips and staring like at us like an idiot.

"So sorry that the idea offends you that much," I said bitterly, getting up from my seat and heading for the exit. "I'm going to the bathroom," I said blankly, walking past the stupid nation who still hadn't said anything. "It's not as though I actually want to do this," I mumbled as I exited the room, just loud enough for him to hear.

It may seem like a harsh thing to do, but I need to do something for him to get the message to just leave me alone. It seems as though the more I try and distance myself from him, the more antagonising he gets and is constantly saying or doing something that demands my attention. This must just be a figment of my imagination of course, no matter how I look at it he has no reason to actively pursue any sort of attention from me. I guess it's just his disposition to be a pain in the arse.

My footsteps echo all around as I hastily make my way towards the bathroom, trying to just calm down and think of how I am going to get through this assignment in the most painless way possible.

I suppose that as this is reconnaissance, it would make sense for us to split up and observe from different angles. Then of course at night one of us will have to keep lookout, so I guess that there is the likelihood of us barely even seeing each other for the majority of this ordeal.

I make a bee line for the sinks as soon as I reach my destination, washing my face in an attempt to calm down and convince myself that we really won't see much of each other and that this whole thing won't nearly be as bad as I first perceived it to be.

I took my sweet time, about fifteen minutes in total, before slowly making my way back. I took a deep breath and fixed my poker face in place before opening the door, not at all surprised when I saw that the French bastard and Russia had now arrived.

"Dude, you took forever! What the heck took you so long?"

"Clearly 'e gave 'imself a bad stomach after eating 'is food for far too long," France explained, smirking at me.

Well, my poker face didn't last long.

"You bastard, take that back! I'll have you know that my fine British cuisine was not the reason I was so long!"

"Oui oui," France said sarcastically, prompting me to aim a punch at his head which he just about dodged. A grand total of three whole seconds passed before we were wrestling rather violently with each other- me with the upper hand of course.

I was vaguely aware of China saying something in the background, but as my attention was otherwise engaged at this point none of the words registered, that is, until something rather crucial finally made it to my ears.

"You damn frog!" I yelled, tripping him up so that he was on the ground. I quickly straddled him, more than happy to strangle the blonde idiot right there and then, but then all of a sudden:

"-So that is why you and America are going to depart the day after tomorrow. Please make the necessary preparations, aru."

"Wait... what?" I asked, faltering for a split second. That was all the time France needed though, and the position we were in was swiftly reversed, that bloody twit smirking down at me.

"God dammit!" I struggled against the weight, trying to focus on the fight but also distracted thanks to the fact that I am apparently going on that assignment much sooner than I had anticipated. "China, say that again! You can't be serious!" I say through gritted teeth, opting to head-butt France so that I could at least escape.

"You and America will leave the day after tomorrow, aru."

"Why the bloody hell so soon?" I asked, dodging to the left as France ran at me.

"It was discussed when you were at the restroom, but America suggested it, aru."

"A-America?" I faltered again, looking at him in surprise as he carried on slurping a milkshake before giving me a thumbs up and grinning. "The hero should get things done quickly!"

Of course, he clearly wants the whole situation to be over as much as I do. I can see the logic behind his decision to leave so quickly now, however it still pisses me off. I thought I'd have at least a week to prepare or something!

...Prepare for what?

Why am I acting like such an idiot? Why the bloody hell is this bothering me so much? If this were any normal situation, then I'd just grin and bear it for the most part. I mean, obviously I'd complain about it, and probably act more difficult than necessary, but I would never vehemently pursue a way out of it. Yet when it comes to _America_, I get nervous, I get worried, I get more annoyed than usual...

I get so confused.

What brings all of this on? I honestly don't understand it, it's as if there is something within me that is just extra sensitive to absolutely everything America does. Even now, when I should have beating France into next millennium at the forefront of my mind, I'm stealing glances at that stupid glutton. The way he's sat slumped in his chair, yet grinning broadly as he continues to abuse his digestive tract with that rubbish he calls a drink, the way he's watching France and I fight with detached interest, laughing whenever I yell something offensive, the way his deep cerulean eyes narrow as France pins me... wait, what?

"Ohonhonhon~ Now Angleterre, beg me to let you go. And say it cutely~"

"Ha! As if I would lower myself to such a level," I smirk, but I can't help glancing back at America who's disposition really does seem to have changed. No one else seems to have noticed, but his brow is just slightly furrowed, suddenly looking much more closely at our moves.

Why has he suddenly changed? Or more importantly: why in God's name am I noticing all of this? If I didn't know any better, it almost seems as if America cares...

_Ba-thump._

"OF COURSE HE DOESN'T BLOODY CARE!"

"A-Angleterre?" France stutters, surprised at my sudden outburst.

"Screw this," I say venomously, easily pushing the stupid blonde off of me who is merely gawking.

"I'm going to get some fresh air," I say, ignoring the fact that we haven't even gotten anything productive done in the meeting yet.

Ha! That git caring? That's a bloody good joke right there. He clearly has no perception of anything, besides, I don't even want him to care. Why would I want him to care? His opinion counts for absolutely nothing as far as I'm concerned; I couldn't give a toss at all what his opinion on anything is. We have a secret system: I don't care about him and he doesn't care about me. Perfect. Great. Splendid, even.

Yes, I honestly couldn't care less.

_Liar!_

"Urgh, I have a headache..."

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_-Entry 2647-_

_England and I are going on an assignment together! As in: just us!__  
><em>Maybe this is the break I've needed? He seriously will not give me the time of day at all lately, so this is perfect!<em>  
><em>I was actually kinda surprised when I heard the news; I thought I had misheard or something- but I didn't so now I have an awesome opportunity to get closer to him.<em>  
><em>This time around I highly doubt we'll get stranded, so that means he'll be in a better mood right?<em>  
><em>Ah well, we leave tomorrow. I asked China if we could go as soon as possible so that I can be alone with England sooner (of course I didn't give that reason).<em>  
><em>I wonder if I'll find more things out? If I can just get a conversation going, I can find out more about him.<em>  
><em>England, I really want to know everything about you.<em>  
><em>I can't wait for tomorrow!<em>_

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Vast expanses of green wherever you looked, nature everywhere, trees standing tall and imposing. This place must be home to tons of exotic creatures and flowers. And somewhere in this really cool place that would be the perfect setting for an action film, Italy and Germany are up to something. Our mission is to find out what, as well as gathering any extra information we can. The first job was to track them down after setting up a base, but...

"Dude, you serious?" I asked, looking at all of the equipment that we had.

"This... this has got to be some sort of mistake," England said, his eyebrows furrowing as he began to search all of the equipment around us. The trip here was a success in that we had someone else piloting the plane for us, successfully avoiding getting stuck somewhere again, but in terms of conversation... yeah, nothing much really happened on that front. England turned up with a huge scowl and bags under his eyes- he looked totally shattered! I asked him about it but all he said was "I couldn't sleep" before glaring at me and then getting onto the plane.

Well at least I learned a new fact about England: He is definitely _not _a morning person.

So when we eventually arrived and had unloaded anything we needed off the plane before it flew away, I was feeling optimistic. I mean, sure England's kinda moody because he hasn't slept yet, but at least we're actually here this time. But then when it came to setting up the tents, well... we kinda have a problem.

"This is a bloody joke!" England seethed, chucking pots and pans and bags full of stuff that I'm pretty sure hold some importance everywhere. He then turned his mood on the huge military tent that was currently laid out on the ground. "This thing isn't even conspicuous, what the hell is the point of calling this a reconnaissance mission when you can see the bloody tent from miles away?"

"It ain't _that _bi-"

"America just shut up! If this is China trying to be funny then it isn't working!"

"Geez, stop getting so worked up dude," I said, smiling sweetly when he turned his death glare on me. "So we only have one tent, it's way big so there's loads of room for us both."

"That's not the problem here you git!" He bent down and lifted the corner of the huge tent up, as if his touch could somehow magically turn it into two smaller ones.

"Aww, you don't wanna be my roomie?" I asked in mock hurt, pouting. I just laughed as a small stone was thrown at me, totally expecting him to do something like that.

"You can sleep outside," he said firmly.

"What? No freaking way! You're the only one who has an issue with this! I totally don't mind this at all!"

He looked at me in confusion then, and I only just realised what I had said.

_Ah crap, I 'hate' England don't I? _"Well, I mean... I'm the hero, so I can overcome this horrible turn of events! There's no way I'd wanna share with you normally," I said, saving myself even though my mind was screaming: _STOP SAYING CRAP! There has to be a better way than digging a hole and being an ass!_

But England seemed to buy it, simply huffing and saying something similar back at me. He looked as though he was contemplating murdering the tent for a moment, before sighing. "Let's just set this up, I'll decide whether or not to make you sleep outside once I've seen it's full capacity."

"Oh you're too kind," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. As the tent really was big, it was gonna be an effort setting the whole thing up so I removed my jacket and placed it on a nearby log in anticipation for me working up a sweat. Do I really need the tie as well? Meh, I can do without. I ditched the tie along with the jacket and then set about locating the necessary poles and ties that would be needed to keep the thing up. England was busy looking over the set up manual and lining up the pieces neatly before starting to put the pegs in various places to indicate where the supports would need to go and such.

"I can manage this," he said calmly, fully immersed in the set up. "If you want to be useful then go and locate Germany and Italy."

"I can't just leave you to set this thing up on your own dude! That's not what a hero would do!"

He sighed in irritation, but was too busy securing a pole in place that he didn't pass comment for a moment. "If you're so obsessed with this hero rubbish, then finding the enemy would be the most heroic right?" he reasoned.

"Ah, well-"

"I'm not some weakling America, I am perfectly capable of setting this up myself."

He certainly did seem to have the whole thing under control, all of the smaller supports now in place and he was going about grabbing the larger ones now. He glanced once more at the manual before placing it down and began to pick the bigger support up. It was at least twice the size of him, but he seemed determined to move it, though I could see him grimace a bit.

"You sure you don't need any help dude?" I asked in slight amusement as it became apparent that he was struggling with this.

"Of course I am! Don't mock me you wanker!"

"You do realise there's like five more of those left right?" I said, leaning up against a tree to see if he would finally ask for my help. He didn't of course, simply letting out a small groan as he looked at the remaining supports.

"Would you just go?" he asked through gritted teeth. "I'm completely fine."

He got the support in place and grinned triumphantly and gave a look as if to say 'Ha! Told you I could do this!' He headed back and I simply sighed; I can't let him do this on his own. I walked over to the pile and was about to pick one of the supports up before he punched me on the arm.

"Oi! I said that I had this under control you idiot!"

"Yeah, but it will be quicker if I do this."

"What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I'm slow?" He narrowed his eyes and huffed angrily.

"No, but I'll probably find this easier," I said honestly, ignoring his protests and easily picking two of the supports up at once. "They go here right?" I called, looking at the spots he had marked out earlier.

He simply looked at me oddly before mumbling, "You and your stupid idiot strength."

"Haha! You impressed?" I asked, putting the supports in place before flexing my epic hero muscles.

"Hardly," he muttered, picking up one of the supports for himself.

I went to the other side of it and poked my head around so that we were looking at each other. "Would it kill you to be honest?" I teased.

"Would it kill you to leave this to me?"

"No, but it may kill an old man like you," I winked, earning Iggy's cute pouty scowl.

In the end we had gotten the whole place set up in under an hour, and once England had had a thorough examination of the inside he deemed it big enough for me to be able to sleep there as well- not that I was actually gonna listen if he said I had to sleep outside anyways. It's not like I'm gonna do anything... I think. I mean, what happened on that island was a total accident! I'm hardly gonna do anything stupid this time around.

England let out a yawn.

"You didn't sleep well last night right? Why don't you go and take a nap or something?" I suggested.

"No, we have an assignment to do," he said, looking around at the equipment that we had yet to organise in the tent. "I'll sort all of this out, you go and locate Italy and Germany. I should have everything in order once you've done that, so come and get me and we can observe their actions for a while."

"Right," I nodded and decided to set off by heading right- because right is always right! Ha, I always remember thinking that as a kid. Granted it didn't work all of the time, but I had no idea where to start off so heading right seemed as good as any idea. "See ya in a bit dude, try not to miss me too much!"

"I think I'll somehow survive."

"Haha! Later!"

Hmm, I wonder if I can come up with an interesting thing to talk about tonight. It would be nice if we could get even just a bit closer while we're here.

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"Where the bloody hell is that idiot?" I muttered, setting up the camping beds on polar opposite sides of the tent and looking around some more before deciding that the position of the collapsible table was all wrong. I glanced outside and am greeted by the sight of a full moon in the night sky.

Isn't it a bit too late for him not to have found them yet? Nothing's happened to him has it? Tch, if I have to go and save his sorry arse then I am not going to be impressed.

I sighed and got fed up with making sure everything had it's place; it was pretty much sorted anyway. Besides, lights are on in this place so he should be able to find it relatively easily. The next thing I should do is set a fire up just outside seeing as it's gotten rather chilly now. I make my way outside with all of the necessary items save the wood which was lying all around anyway, before seeing something a few metres away lying on a log.

"What's that?" I wandered over to it, only to see that America had carelessly left his jacket and tie tossed over it. "So irresponsible, that git." I picked the clothing items up and headed back towards the tent with the intention of dumping them on his camp bed before carrying on with making a fire.

I yawned as I made my way over to it- I've been trying to make it through today with only two hours sleep. No matter how much I tried to convince myself that today would be okay, I was still nervous about it. I guess everything seems to be proceeding reasonably at the moment though, nothing terribly interesting has happened apart from America being a total idiot as always. I glared at the huge supports keeping the tent up. As if he just picked two of those up as if they were twigs! That's bloody insane! Those things were so heavy it was untrue! I tried not to show how heavy they were by attempting to keep a neutral expression and just carry on, but bloody hell they were heavy!

"Stupid America and his stupid strength and his stupid self..." I discarded his tie on the table but made to put the actual jacket on his bed. Why does he always wear this thing anyway? Is it special to him in some way? A cold breeze rushed through the tent once more and I couldn't help but shiver. I looked at the jacket again.

"Is he cold without this?" I wondered, sitting down on his bed and staring at the garment as if it was going to magically reveal it's owners current status to me. But seriously, it really is chilly outside, and now it's dark... does he even know which way he went? Can he find his way back?

"GAH! Dammit America! I swear to God if you've gone and died on me, I'll kill you all over again!" I yelled, clutching that bloody jacket close to me as if that was going draw that self proclaimed heroic idiot towards me. Of course it didn't.

I took a deep breath and contemplated whether or not to go and search for him, but... hey, his jacket...

It smells like him...

I expected it to reek of hamburgers and junk food, but instead there is a faint smell of coffee, and various spices even... and it's warm too, like America is...

_Ba-thump._

"Dammit, where are you idiot?" I mumbled.

Another chill runs around the room, dropping the temperature around me by a noticeable amount. Damn, if he's gone and caught hypothermia or something because he left this stupid jacket behind...

Warm.

"What the-?" I looked down, and I'm... wearing the jacket? "When the hell did I put this on?" I wondered, my mind clearly having been occupied with something else when I did.

Occupied with America, and his safety...

_Ba-thump._

"For fuck's sake this is a bloody joke! Just come back already, this assignment wasn't even supposed to be dangerous! God dammit... bloody hell..."

That jacket really is warm, it's almost like the island thing again... I'm tired... I'm clearly not thinking straight.

"America... you idiot..."

x~x~x~x~x

"Geez, I never thought it would get this dark," I muttered, trying to retrace my steps in an attempt to find our base again. Today had been a total wash out; I couldn't find Germany and Italy anywhere. I swear I covered loads of ground as well, I just wanted to find them because going back with nothing to show for hours of searching is kinda pathetic. And now there's the issue of trying to find the tent again... I swear it's around here somewhere.

The temperature of this place had dropped at night; like how it did on that island we were stranded on. I guess the smart move would have been to take my jacket with me, but it didn't dawn on me that I'd actually forgotten it until the sun began to set. I wonder if it's still on that log where I left it? That would be a useful marker. Or maybe England lit a fire so I could follow the smoke?

Urgh, next time I go wandering off I'm gonna mark random trees or something so that I at least have some form of making my way back. Ah well, at least I managed to come up with a few ways to hopefully get a conversation started with England, so today hasn't been a complete waste of time.

The sounds of crickets and other creatures that have made this place their home sound all around me, a night time chorus. It's relaxing in a way, helps you to embrace the night more. And the moon is out as well, casting beautiful silver light everywhere and giving the place a sort of magic feel to it. I should take England here tomorrow night, I think he'd really like it seeing as he's still into that magic stuff even all of these years later. Well, I guess I still believe in ghosts- but those are actually real!

I look ahead, and can vaguely see a light that isn't radiating from the moon. It's not natural light, it's man made. The tent!

"All right! I knew I'd make it back!" I said triumphantly. I eventually made it back, going over to the log where my jacket should be.

"Huh? Where's my jacket?" It's gone, but that's strange because I didn't move it. Oh hang on, will England have taken it inside? All of the other stuff that was out here has gone, so I guess it's not a stretch to think he brought that in as well. I can see a dim light coming from the tent, but no sounds of movement or anything. Is England there? Oh man, he didn't think I got lost or anything did he? What if he's out there now?

I quickly ran into the tent to make sure that the Brit was inside, quickly noting how neat this place looked- although I guess I wasn't expecting anything less from England. I glanced at his bed which had been placed on the far left.

Crap! He's not there! Oh my God, what if he really has gone? I scanned the rest of the area and then-

"-England?" As my gaze moved and fixed on the far right and my bed, if I'm not mistaken then... "What's he doing on my bed?" The light may be minimal, so I can't really make anything out too clearly, but that's definitely England. I moved closer to see if anything was wrong.

"Hey England, what are you doing?" I asked, but I got no reply. And then I made it to my bed, and saw him fast asleep, and- wait. Is he wearing my jacket? Why is he wearing my jacket?

I looked on at the strange sight. England looks so peaceful. I watch his chest rise and fall steadily with each even breath, a small murmur sometimes escaping his slightly parted lips. His sand blonde hair is splayed across the pillow, a slight tint to his cheeks... and then he's wearing _my _jacket. Looking so cosy, looking so cute, wearing _my _jacket. And on _my _bed...

"England," I whispered quietly, my pulse quickening, "This... This isn't fair. You're not playing fair. Do you even know what you're doing? Looking so innocent like that... it's a crime."

And it is a crime. What am I supposed to think if he does something like this? I know he's unaware of how I feel about him, but still...

Damn, I can't help it- I want him. I don't want to do anything stupid, but when he looks like this, when he's snuggling up close to my jacket and my things... I can't help it.

Just one kiss, that's all I'll do. I'll be careful, I honestly will...

"England," I breathed, carefully moving closer and kneeling down beside the bed. I stare for a bit; England really is beautiful. I start to lean in, the sound of his shallow breaths becoming audible as I begin to close the gap between us.

There's a nagging voice at the back of my head somewhere, or alarm bells, or something telling me not to. But I honestly can't help it. His lips are so close to mine. Those soft, enticing lips... and I closed the distance, giving into the temptation and allowing myself just one moment of weakness.

It's only small, gentle, but I brush our lips against each other, and small vibes wash through me and I close my eyes briefly.

"Mmnn..."

I quickly pulled away when I heard England moan slightly, wondering if I'd woken him up. I started to rapidly come up with a reason as to why I had done that to explain to him, but all he did was change his position slightly before settling back down with a very faint smile coming to his lips.

"England, I love you," I said softly. "I love you so much, I'm so terribly in love with you... I wonder if you'll ever feel the same?"

I got back up and made my way over to his bed, seeing as it looks like I'll have to use that tonight. I wonder how he'll explain this in the morning? That is definitely a story I want to hear. Maybe this means that England doesn't dislike me as much as he let's on...

x~x~x~x~x

**Well I hope this chapter was worth the wait :) I don't really have anything terribly interesting to say at the moment, so I'll just thank you all so much for reading my fic ^_^ I really do appreciate your support and reviews and such. This fic has been a first for me on many things: first Hetalia fic, first fic written in first person... I just really enjoy writing it ^.^ So until next time dear readers~**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	16. Block Break

**Hello everyone~ Wow, thank you for the reviews ^_^ I do apologise for the long wait, and I could drone on forever about the reasons behind it but you'll just get bored and so I'll just shut up and write now :P  
>Just To Say: Sorry for how long it got! I guess it's to make up for my leave of absence? "u_u<strong>

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Sixteen- Block Break

I can vaguely hear the sweet sound of birdsong in the distance, and the atmosphere I am starting to become aware of seems so relaxed...

"Uhn... nn..." I let out a contented sigh, snuggling back down into my bed and my comfy jumper I had on. Ah, it really has been such a long time since I slept so well, so soundly. Lately I've been suffering from a severe lack of sleep, which hasn't really put me in the best of moods (not that I even have the best of moods to begin with). It had actually gotten to the point where I would wish for nothing more than the destruction of those damned birds that feel the need to wake the world up at ridiculous times in the morning. But today is different. Today, I am well rested and completely comfortable, more than happy to listen to the sweet morning song. Perhaps I'll just have a day in bed, relaxing and enjoying the pleasant ambiance.

I move slightly to find a better sleeping position before allowing sleep to wash over me once more, the warmth given to me by my jumper feeling utterly amazing and so cosy.

Wait...

When the hell did I put a jumper on last night? And... this doesn't feel like my bed...

I began to stir, moaning a bit because my body was protesting bitterly to just stay in bed. But something feels strange. It began to dawn on me that the sound of the birds was louder than usual, and that I could actually smell the fresh air and nature. I moaned again as I completely defied my body and lazily brought my hands up to my eyes, wiping away any sleep before opening them slowly. The sight of the top of a tent greets me.

Of course, I was on an assignment at the moment wasn't I? Strange, I never usually sleep well in these conditions. Of course I am not going to complain or anything, this is actually a rather nice development. My attention is suddenly drawn back to the business of the incredibly comfortable jumper I am wearing, slowly sitting up in the bed to get a better look at my surroundings and also so I could remember this amazing garment in the future. I was in no rush at all, for once just content to go through the motions slowly, actually finding that I was _enjoying_ a morning for the first time in a long time. I glance around the area, nodding proudly to myself as I saw everything neat and ordered. Being organised is an essential aspect of these reconnaissance missions after all. My eyes fell on a bed at the opposite side of the large area, and I was able to see America spread out all over the thing.

Now it's all coming back to me: I am here with America... stupid git, he even sleeps like an idiot: his right arm hanging over the side of the bed, feet sticking out the other side from where he had pulled the blanket up too high and a stupid grin on his face. I looked away, determined not to let my tranquil morning be ruined. I took in a deep, appreciative breath of the fresh air before-

Hang on. Is America... in my bed?

I quickly looked back, appraising what I realised was the left side of the tent- _my _side of the tent! That bloody git! Having the nerve to sleep in _my _bed! How dare he? Who does he think he is? Why I should-

I hastily cut off my angry thinking in order to think about things logically, if only for a second. If he's there, and I'm clearly on a bed, then...

I looked down, instantly gasping as I saw that I was on _America's _bed! What the hell is going on? Why am I here? And- WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK AM I WEARING? If I'm not mistaken, then that 'comfortable jumper' from earlier wasn't what I first thought, it's- it's-

"America's... jacket?" I whispered, briefly wondering if I'd fallen asleep again and was currently in the midst of some extremely surreal dream- or perhaps nightmare would be better? At any rate, I pinched myself to wake up.

I ended up with a rather nice, little red mark on my skin. "Damn," I hissed, glaring as I realised that I was not waking up. This is real?

Okay England, just calm down and be responsible and mature. Think of the facts that you know:

1.) I am sleeping on America's bed.

2.) I am wearing America's coveted jacket.

Well, okay then. This isn't so bad, even if it is a bit unorthodox. Yes, I can quite easily proceed in a calm and sensible manner.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON?"

Hmm... apparently 'calm and sensible' means 'panic uncontrollably before nearly suffering from a heart attack' in this instance. But what the hell else am I supposed to do? Why am I here like this? I appeared to enter into a state of paralysis, completely unable to move for a few minutes while babbling complete and utter nonsense. I had no idea what I was saying, my brain just trying to remember how I ended up here like this.

And then, I heard America groan.

Quickly turning to look, I saw the American rubbing his eyes before blearily saying, "What the-?" Grabbing his glasses from nearby and placing them on, his gaze came to focus on me. I stiffen immediately, trying to pull the blanket up to hide the fact that, for some currently unknown reason, I am actually wearing his jacket.

"You're noisy," he said simply, sitting up in bed. He quirked an eyebrow slightly. "Sleep well?"

"Not in the least!" I lied, crossing my arms and glaring at anything and everything. "What the bloody hell were you playing at? Surely there was no need for you to go and steal my bed!"

A low chuckle escaped his lips. "Hey now, who do ya think stole from who?"

"_Whom_," I corrected him automatically, before mentally slapping myself because, as important as grammar is, now is not the time for it. "Why would I steal your bed when I have one of my own in perfect working order?" I asked, the unimpressed expression currently being displayed on my face demanding an answer.

"Look dude, when I came back _you_ were on _my _bed. I kinda thought about kicking you out but that wouldn't be heroic so I let you stay, aren't I kind?" he grinned.

"I have no idea what you are-"

* * *

><p><em>"America... you idiot..." I mumbled, wrapping the jacket all around me. It's so warm, it feels like I'm being enveloped in his arms again... and the scent makes me feel strangely safe, it reminds me of America. At some point my head had gravitated towards the pillow, because I was soon lying down with the promise of just catching only five minutes sleep...<br>"America..."_

* * *

><p>"GYAH!" I yelled, suddenly being hit by a barrage of memories that, quite frankly, should have just stayed buried deep in my subconscious. What the bloody hell was I thinking? Well, I was sleep deprived and people do crazy things in that sort of state, but still! Acting in that way almost makes it seem as if I-<p>

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump._

-No. I refuse to even entertain the thought.

"Haha! Dude, you're totally blushing!" America grinned wider, pointing at me in what I can only presume to be amusement.

"I-I am not, git!"

"Yes you are~" he hummed. "So, you gonna tell me why you stole my bed or what?"

"I was simply tired! Don't think that I did it because I _wanted _to or for some weird reason or anything!" When he simply rolled his eyes and said some sarcastic comment, I felt the need to defend my honour and pride by taking firmer action. "Besides, I hardly stole the bed, you should have just woken me up!" I said angrily, throwing the blanket to one side and getting up. "And another thing, I- What the hell?" I looked down and realised that my ever so stealthy tactic of hiding the fact I was wearing that stupid jacket under the blankets had just been violated.

"H-How big are you?" I momentarily faltered, holding an arm out and marvelling at the fact that the sleeves were entirely too long. Even the body of the jacket fell down past my hips. What the hell? I'm not _that _small am I? I glanced up to look at America, cocking my head slightly before bringing my attention back to the jacket. How on earth have I failed to notice this height difference before? I mean I suppose that I was aware that it was there, but this is the first time I've been fully _conscious _of it...

I looked up again, feeling slightly awkward for some reason, only to catch America staring. When our eyes met for a brief second, I quickly found myself sharply looking towards the floor while heat began to slowly rise in my cheeks. What on earth? Why am I suddenly averting my gaze? I quickly flickered my eyes back to the American, saw that he was still looking at me, and promptly I was looking at the floor once more.

_Ba-thump._

Tch, enough of this! I took a deep breath and willed myself to make eye contact once again- this time not succumbing to the desire of looking away because that is just acting like a bloody idiot and there really is no need for me to get so worked up over something so trivial.

"May I ask what it is you find so interesting?" I asked coolly, running a hand through my hair in case it was doing its usual unkempt 'just been dragged through a hedge backwards' look.

"Huh? O-Oh..." Seeming to come back to reality, the self proclaimed hero stuttered before appearing to gather his thoughts. "I was just thinking that you look really _stupid_ with that pout on your face."

"I am not pouting, idiot!"

"Haha! You totally are! Also, you don't suit my jacket at all, seriously dude."

Why that comment annoyed me I'm not quite sure. It's not as if I've ever wanted to look reasonably fashionable in anyone's garments other than my own- and even then I'm not entirely fussed. But for whatever reason America got to me once again and I found myself spewing sarcasm like there was no tomorrow. "Well I apologise for clearly not having your obviously high caliber when it comes to looks and fashion." I folded my arms and gasped when I realised that I probably _was _pouting this time around. Quickly correcting this, I opted to glare at the other instead. "Hmph! This jacket is simply awful."

"Riiiiiight, it's so awful that you continue to wear it, makes complete sense," he chuckled, starting to make his way over to me.

My initial reaction was to back away, before I realised that there really was no need for that and so hastily removed the garment that had turned what had started off as a normal morning into another bloody headache. I immediately noticed the cool air around me as I lost the warmth the jacket had been providing. In some strange way, I felt rather lonely with the loss of the heat. I quickly shook my head to dispel these unwanted thoughts and closed the distance between myself and America.

"Here, take your bloody jacket," I mumbled, thrusting it at him quickly before moving to turn away from him. I failed at the latter part, with America grabbing my wrist before I could get away.

"Damn, what do you wa-" I cut myself off from what was to be some pointless comment when I looked at him, or more specifically, when I accidentally became entranced in the captivating, spellbinding blue of his eyes...

I think I saw his lips move, clearly saying something, but I didn't catch it. I'm far too lost at the moment, as if everything else is truly irrelevant and the only thing of interest are those beautiful blue orbs that hold so much emotion, emotion that I honestly cannot decipher for the life of me but I wish that I could.

"-nd. Hey! Heeelloooo! England?"

"O-Oh, sorry... what?" I quickly shook my head and came back to reality with the startling realisation that I must have been staring. I faltered then, not meaning to but I was incapable of coming up with anything witty at the moment. The heat began to rise in my cheeks once again at how utterly foolish I must have looked, internally cursing myself and waiting expectantly for some flippant remark from the younger nation. However that remark never came, and when I dared to look at his face again, I saw curiosity edge its way into the plethora of emotions in those eyes before, and I swear this to be true, they darkened.

A battle was commencing now, inside the darkened blue, conflicting feelings fighting to overcome the rest. I used to think myself good at reading others, but I may have to reassess that seeing as what I can see in America's eyes are emotions that I have yet to place. They aren't anything like the rage that I've seen plenty of times, or a threatening or menacing look as if he wished to harm me (and believe me when I say that there have been plenty of people who have wished to harm me). The only emotions I can place are restraint and a certain degree of pain, although I have no idea why that may be the case. I can also see undertones of a softer emotion, one that almost seems caring but I know America far too well and I can't help but chuckle internally as I think about how stupid it was of me to even entertain the thought of positive emotions being held in those eyes while looking at me. I do, however, catch the small glint within the hypnotic sapphires, a glint that has me feeling uneasy and makes my breath catch.

And then it dawns on me that I have actually seen this look. I have seen it once before, and I had no idea what it meant back then either. This is the same look that America had countless decades ago, when I had finally done away with that war and I had returned to visit him, shocked upon finding him to not be the small boy of my memories. I suppose I was far too happy at being reunited with him at that time to really pay the emotions in his eyes any heed, or perhaps I was just ignorant. But this look, one of struggling against something, is definitely the one I had seen shortly before he declared independence... so then, is this a look of hate? Even though I can't really sense anything malicious in the gaze, that must be it.

I can't help but wonder what he's thinking and why this supposedly simple idiot has eyes that hold such complexities.

"You're blushing again," he murmured.

I seemed to return back to my normal state upon hearing this, rage finally beginning to flare up so that I didn't sound ridiculously pathetic. "I am not, git!"

He began to lean in slowly, my expression completely guarded and I watched his every move. It dawned on me that he still had a hold of my wrist, so I attempted to tug it away. "Oi! Haven't you ever heard of personal space? What the hell are you-"

"-You," he paused, his lips only centimetres away from my ear. My protests caught in my throat and I stood completely still, despite wanting to hit him for being such an idiot. Yet a small shiver ran through me as he carried on his sentence, "Seriously don't play fair, England."

"W-What are you-"

"Well, next time ya wanna borrow my jacket, ask okay?" he suddenly said, pulling back as his usual infuriating grin was fixed in place. He released his hold on my wrist and simply laughed as I yelled:

"I didn't want to wear the bloody thing in the first place! Don't misunderstand, git!"

"Sure sure, whatever you say old man," he said, sticking his tongue out before happily making his way over to the other side of the tent, probably to consume all of the supplies we had brought with us. I, on the other hand, was content to stand there and curse for a while- at least it served as a decent distraction from my quicker than usual pulse...

Clearly that's due to rage, naturally.

x~x~x~x~x

England isn't talking to me. I guess that shouldn't really come as a surprise, seeing as he got really worked up this morning. I'm not sure if it was his anger that was making him oblivious to his actions, or if he really is genuinely unaware of the effect he has one me. I mean, he was standing there in my jacket, pouting _and _blushing and looking so freaking adorable that it was all I could do to not kiss him again.

Urgh, seriously this isn't fair!

My boots laid down a steady rhythm against the ground, in time with England's own movements as I followed behind him in silence. I have come to learn that if I speak to England when he is in this kind of mood it is likely to end badly for me, so I've taken to allowing him sufficient time to cool down whenever he does get in this state. I still go right back to annoying him though once it's safe to converse again, so I guess my being quiet now kinda defeats the whole point of this exercise huh?

I began to look at the surrounding foliage and zone in on the exotic calls and sounds of the wildlife here, so unlike anything I'd heard before. It is while I'm surrounding by this lush heaven that I allow my mind to wander to other things, the main topics up for debate today being how we should proceed if and when we do eventually find Italy and Germany out here, if I'd packed enough food supplies for today (and seething because my beloved hamburgers were deemed 'unworthy foodstuffs' for this assignment. Seriously, what's that about?), but mainly: The England situation.

I need some kind of plan. Hoping for the best and playing it by ear- my current tactic- is clearly useless. Well, obviously. There has to be something I can do that will at least allow me to be seen in a better light or at least give me some sort of edge. Yet it is easy to say 'I need a plan' and a whole different matter entirely to actually come up with one. I've tried running through different scenarios in my head: how he would react if I confessed in a certain way or what would happen in various instances and places if different criteria were filled. Almost all of the scenarios end the same: negatively.

The reaction I usually get from 'simulation England' is him laughing in my face, being mad as hell, or simply ignoring me. The only time the reaction is positive is when I stop thinking about things logically and allow myself to daydream for bit. 'Daydream England' is always much more understanding than 'simulation England'. The latter simply brushes me off whereas the former is a lot more open and friendly and more often than not- he cries. He doesn't cry out of sadness or anything, he cries tears of joy. Daydream England has a tendency to blush cutely upon hearing whatever method of confessing I'm trialling, before he willingly allows me to hug him and he practically melts. He says loving things and he even presses his lips softly against mine on occasion.

Simulation England, more often than not, would be happy to beat the crap outta me and leave me for dead.

I know which one is more likely to happen and I wince a bit as I realise that I really have gotten myself into an impossible predicament here. Why did I have to fall in love with him? It's just... hard sometimes. It's painful not being able to say anything, knowing that our relationship is balancing precariously already without me going ahead and complicating things further.

I let out a long sigh, no closer to finding any sort of solution as my eyes catch sight of a bird with vibrant blue wings flying overhead before landing on the branch of a tree to my left. The wings glitter when they catch the sun just right. I follow the bird's little journey across the branch, catching sight of a similar bird slightly higher. The bird begins to sing sweetly, a steady melody that I'm pretty sure is intended for the other bird up in that tree. Guess it's some kinda of mating song.

"Good luck little dude," I whisper under my breath. Perhaps he will have better luck in love that I seem to be. I look back to England whose pace is slowing slightly, but he is still rigidly looking forward. Well... I guess it wouldn't hurt to try and talk about something, right?

"Hey England," I call, not really sure what to talk about but past caring. I can always make something up. He turns his head slightly, but doesn't respond. "Yo dude!" I say louder, and this time I do get a reply in the form of a harsh, "Shh!"

"Hey!" I protested, because I haven't even given him a _reason _to tell me to shush yet. "I was just thi-"

"America, quiet!" he hissed, stopping completely in order to turn around, clapping a hand over my mouth. His eyes are narrowed, but they aren't focused on me.

"You hear that?" he asked quietly.

I stilled, willing myself to ignore our close proximity because he looked really serious. I became aware of two very faint voices off in the distance. My eyes widened as I realised who we were starting to be able to hear and England seemed to pick up on it, because he removed his hand and gestured for me to follow him.

And so we crept along, doing our best to make minimal noise on the dirt paths we were on and tensing whenever one of us inadvertently stepped on a leaf or snapped a twig underfoot. I felt slightly guilty for focusing so much on personal matters when I really should have been focused on this mission at the moment. Despite popular belief I am capable of being responsible and sensible, but if you live life completely like that you just burn out.

Seriously, everybody should just learn to chill and life would be so much easier!

England was completely and totally focused now, listening for anything and everything and moving so lightly you could barely hear him. In all honesty I moved with a lot less grace and was probably making loads of noise in the process because England shot me a couple of exasperated looks a couple of times. I grinned a bit as I came up with an epic way to make up for my lack of finesse.

Seeing as we were planning on observing Italy and Germany most of the day we had brought backpacks filled with necessary stuff like food and water and binoculars. I retrieved a water canteen, unscrewed the top, and knelt down in order to pour some of the liquid on the dry dirt. The effect of this was the creation of mud.

I dipped my fingers in the mud and started to draw awesome designs somewhere between badass army and epic tribal on my face. But why stop there? I loosened my tie and slid it over my head, not seeing the point in wearing a tie anyways. I retied it around my forehead, retrieving a few leaves from nearby and stuffing them into my new makeshift headband. I briefly considered turning my jacket into a cape somehow, but it was at this point that England turned back around, probably to hiss at me for making so much rustling in the process of my new found camouflage game.

He made it just in time to see me finishing off writing 'hero' in mud across my right cheek- which seriously dudes, is a heck of a lot harder than it sounds!

Seeing as speaking was obviously not allowed at this point, I simply grinned and gave him a thumbs up in all of my epic hero glory. Sadly this didn't have the desired effect in that England didn't swoon, simply rolled his eyes and turned around again. That being said, I swear I saw a ghost of a smile begin to play on his lips and I think I heard him let out a small chuckle. Well it's a start at least.

Now blending into the surrounding area (well, kinda blending in) I began to follow England again, doing my best to keep quiet although if worse comes to worst I could always pretend like I'm some sort of lumbering tree and hope no one would be any the wiser. All the while voices were becoming more and more clear until England finally deemed us close enough to seriously conceal ourselves (apparently he didn't think my camouflage was up to much) and so he ducked down and stuck close to any bushes or trees nearby. I copied and tried to replicate his path, but I couldn't help doing a forward roll at one point in a misguided attempt to impress England. Unfortunately for me I kinda misjudged everything, so that the only effect this had was me nearly giving away our position and England looking as if he was pondering the idea of leaving me here in the wilderness (but in my defence, doing a forward roll in these conditions is totally harder than you may think!)

Anyways, after him shooting me a look that silently communicated the fact he wanted to scream 'you stupid git' or something similar, we pressed on until _finally _we found a totally sweet shrub thing that we could hide behind and observe the two countries we came here to observe without being easily spotted.

Before us was a pretty simple layout quite similar to our own what with the big tent that I guess they must share and a small campfire set out in front with a few handily placed logs to sit down on. If it wasn't for Germany sat down polishing some big ass rifle in his hands then I wouldn't have really thought of them as a threat, especially with the way Italy was dashing around the small area humming something.

"Ve~ Germany, I'm bored! Play with me!" he whined.

Germany sighed and stopped inspecting the weapon in order to look at his ally. "Can you at least _try _to take this seriously, Italy?"

This earned him a pout, so in the end he relented and said, "If all goes well today then you can cook pasta tonight."

"Yay~! Grazie Germany!" he said happily, happily going over to Germany to give him a little hug. "That looks dangerous, ve~" Italy said when he inspected the rifle more closely.

"Ja, well, don't worry. I'll handle this, seeing as what happened with that grenade the other day has put me off trusting you with something like this."

Well I'm confused. Those two are polar opposites, yet they seem to get on really well. I wish I was that close with England...  
>I glance over to said country, immediately noticing that we seem to have placed ourselves as far away from the other as possible. He's watching intently, listening to see if anything that would be of use to us would be uttered. Deciding that I may as well chance it, I budged up so that the distance between us closed. England looked at me, raising an eyebrow in a silent question of, 'What the hell are you doing?' I just shrugged to make it seem as though I was completely uninterested and mumbled something quietly about sticking closer together in case we're spotted. He scowled a bit but didn't attempt to move away which gives me a bit of hope- maybe he likes me just a bit? Not love or anything, I know that he doesn't love me like I love him, but like is a start. Just being by his side can be enough, at least for now.<p>

I found myself becoming interested in the slight hint of pink rising in his cheeks, similar to this morning. I'd just passed earlier off as a mixture of anger and embarrassment (mostly anger if I was being honest) but him blushing now doesn't really seem to make sense. It's not too hot or anything, and he doesn't really have anything to be embarrassed or angry about at the moment... so then why is he blushing?

I try to be reasonable and logical in my thought pattern, but there is a part of me that dares to hope that the cause of that blush may have been me. I know that's kinda next to impossible, but what if it _is_ me? Can I really have that much of an effect on him? I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest as the idea becomes more and more appealing; even if it is just a little fantasy I've created.

"That should do it," Germany said, nodding proudly once he'd finished doing maintenance on the gun that will probably be aimed at me if I don't stay focused on the task at hand. "Get ready to move Italy," he said, giving said country and exasperated look seeing as he had opted to sprawl across the ground for some reason. After managing to coax him up to a standing position with the promise of pasta, the two of them headed off deeper into the expanse of trees, effectively leaving their base unguarded.

England looked like Christmas had come early and as soon as he deemed it safe he stood up and immediately started enacting a thorough search of the place.

"Wow, guess that was kinda lucky huh?" I asked, not really expecting an answer and not really getting one apart from a small grunt to show he had heard me speak.

After about a minute I heard England give a triumphant, "Aha!" before he emerged from the tent holding numerous papers and a few books.

"Dude, isn't taking all of that gonna be obvious?"

"Well obviously, hence why I don't plan on taking it idiot. Just get over here and look through these, we'll get it done twice as fast."

"Haha! The hero can get it done _four_ times as fast!" I proclaimed grandly, going over to the tent and taking half of what England was holding. I think he's given up even being exasperated by this point, simply staying blank before heading over to a desk in the tent and beginning to pour over some stuff. I looked at what I was holding, just a load of sheets and documents apart from one book, although when I looked at the title I couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"_'How To Understand Italians'_ huh? Good luck with that," I said, leafing through the pages before deciding to look at the other stuff. Most of it was just trivial nonsense or things that Italy had gotten his hands on and doodled over. He was pretty good at drawing actually. I frowned a bit when I came across something that looked kinda important, purely because it was written in German and I don't speak any German at all. The only other thing that was useful was a map that had certain areas marked out, although I wasn't really sure what all the different symbols represented and Germany hadn't put a key on it. I had to resist the urge to grab one of Italy's nearby crayons to highlight my country and label it 'The United States Of Awesome'- because it totally is.

"Yo Iggy, check it out," I said, coming over with the two bits of information.

"Do not refer to me by that infernal nickname," he grated out, but he glanced up to see what I had found.

"There's this map but I dunno what the stuff written on it means, and this letter thing that looks like it may be useful but I don't speak German so yeah... do we even know anyone that speaks German?" That's a thought, out of my allies who can speak German? I'm pretty sure that China and Russia can't, and even though they're neighbours or whatever, France doesn't seem like he can speak it- something about it 'not sounding romantic and capturing the essence of amour' or whatever.

"I can speak it," England said simply, grabbing the paper off of me in order to peruse it's contents.

"You what? Seriously? When d'ya learn that?" I asked, because I honestly had no idea he knew any other language than his own... which I suppose just highlights how little I actually know about him. I attempted to ignore the totally depressed feeling that washed over me then, but it was no use. I'd give anything to know the stupid facts about England.

"I had an alliance with Prussia centuries ago," England explained while reading the document. "Prussian and German are virtually one and the same so I can understand the basics of the document."

"Oh right... heh, you really are an old man," I joked, wondering if he knew any more languages.

That gained me an indignant 'Hmph!' but England at least explained that the stuff written was an outline for some new military tactic the Axis were trialling, so it looked like this little excursion was useful after all.

"Any luck with your lot?" I asked, pointing to the sheets and books England had been looking through.

"Nothing of real relevance, although I have yet to look through this book," he said, picking up a leather-bound book with little intricate patterns on the front. Upon opening to the first page it became blatantly obvious that it was a diary or journal or whatever you wanna call it. Judging by the amount of doodles and the overuse of the word 'pasta', I think it's safe to say it belongs to Italy.

England briefly looked through but there was nothing detailing anything important (unless you class how to make the perfect Bolognese as important) and so he started to put everything back where it was originally. I helped, and we carried on in silence until England said:

"You keep a diary, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"That book you're always writing in, the one you even brought here, isn't it a diary?"

"Pfft! Me? Nah, it's nothing really," I lied, not wanting him maybe looking in it out of curiosity or whatever. Besides, it's kinda embarrassing having one now that I think about it. Ah well, it looks as though he hasn't realised that it's the same journal he gave to me long ago.

"I see, I guess I did think it strange that you would have something like that," he replied, organising the desk to how I presume it must have been before we invaded. "Although, what on earth are you constantly scribbling down? I dread to think it's a compilation of all your 'bright ideas'."

After I had spent sufficient time defending my awesome ideas I shook my head and thought about the answer to that question. "It's a novel," I said eventually.

"A novel?"

"Yeah." A small smile came to my lips as I continued, although it must have been a sad one because I could already feel my throat drying up as I said, "It's a romance novel, although... well, I have no idea how to advance the plot." I chuckled a bit, oh how true that was. I have no idea how to tackle my feelings for England.

"You? Writing romance?" he scoffed- and he does have a point really, seeing as I suck at this love stuff. "If you were to write anything at all I would have thought it would be adventure or something."

"Well, ya know, a hero's gotta broaden his horizons!" I said brightly, despite wanting to go and lament in a corner as I am once again reminded of my impossible situation. I'm pretty sure that if England ever did read my 'romance novel' he'd just think the whole thing was laughable.

After making sure everything was the way it was we headed back out in a bid to get distance between ourselves and this camp now that we had achieved what we intended.

"I suppose we should head back to our own base," England said and I was about to agree, but then I was struck with inspiration as my idea from yesterday came back.

I want to show England how this place looks at night. I guess seeing as there are still a few hours until it goes dark there's no point in going now, but I'll think of something later on so he can see.

I hope he'll enjoy it.

x~x~x~x~x

"You did what?" I asked, trying to better understand the current situation.

"Last night I kinda dropped something I needed out here somewhere," America said once again.

"Okay then, and may I ask why that has anything to do with me?"

"Dude! We're allies right, so just help me! I mean, it's not like I wanna spend my time with you but I'd help you if this was reversed cuz I'm the hero!"

"America! The sun is practically gone and you choose to reveal this bit of information _now_? Are you seriously that much of an idiot? Wait, actually don't answer that."

"Just come with me would ya? Geez, you're making such a big deal out of this."

"Well I do apologise," I said sarcastically. "Just go and search on your own." I stayed sat on my bed and even moved to grab something to read to show that I had absolutely no intention of wandering out into the bloody unknown when it was getting dark. However America seemed to have other plans, and instead of just leaving me the hell alone he made his way over to where I was sat in a last ditch attempt of convincing me to be an idiot like him.

When he didn't say anything though, I simply raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner. Why do I have a bad feeling all of a sudden?

The answer to this was swiftly discovered not two seconds later, when America quickly moved and grabbed my hand.

"O-Oi! What the bloody hell are you-"

"Let's go find that thing!" America said grandly, beginning to drag me away from the tent and my sanity. Much the same as our little trip to the bar that time, any resistance I attempted to give was infuriatingly brushed off by that damn strength America possess. Even knowing this I didn't stop struggling though, because then that would feel like I was just giving up. I spent a good two minutes trying to escape the hold before I finally deemed that sufficient time to show that I did not appreciate this in the least, opting to seethe silently for a bit as we went further into the vast amount of trees. I glanced up at the sky and sighed as dusk was drawing to a close.

I swear if we get lost then I'll-

Wait. Holy shit we're holding hands! I suppose that my anger did a splendid job of diverting my attention away from that fact, but now that I have cooled down it is now _very much apparent_. Oh God, what should I do? I've already seen that struggling will get me nowhere... GAH!

Okay, just calm down and think logically...

Logically...

_Logically..._

I have absolutely no idea how best to proceed here, save for screaming obscenities at the one dragging me here and _holding my damn hand_! And now the warmth has returned, that magnificent warmth that just _is _America and I can't help but stare in wonder at the shocking and very unnerving realisation that my hand fits perfectly in his.

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump._

Why? Why am I getting so flustered over just holding hands? It isn't even that really, he's taking me against my will to some random area, there aren't really any alternative reasons for this at all! So then _why_? What the bloody hell is wrong with me? Why, in the name of all that is good and _sane_, is this having such a profound effect on me?

Or I guess simply put: Why is _he _having such a profound effect on me?

"We're nearly there," he informed me, turning around briefly and issuing that grin of his in the process and now I'm ninety-nine percent sure that I'm blushing like an idiot for _no good reason whatsoever_! I have to snap out of this, this... this isn't normal. At all. Something is seriously wrong and I feel unnecessarily self-conscious and what the bloody hell is going on here? Oh this is not good, I've gone light headed... my heart has apparently decided it wants to beat ten times what it's actually supposed to and now... now...

"A-America," I managed to get out, my dry throat and suddenly extremely incoherent thoughts not helping matters in the least. Damn, I need to just get a hold of myself!

Thankfully we appeared to have reached our destination, and upon arrival I was released. While this should have made me happy it just left a lot of sodding questions along the lines of: what the fuck was that just now?

Deciding that there must be something in the air here that induces temporary delirium I shook my head before finally beginning to become aware of my surroundings and the original reason for being here. After clearing my throat I managed to have some semblance of assurance as I said, "So what does this bloody thing of yours look like?"

"Huh?" he asked, looking completely confused.

"The whole reason we're here, idiot," I said, although it wasn't as forceful as I'd hoped it would be.

"Oh yeah! Well it's kinda like... a thingish thing," he smiled sheepishly.

"A 'thingish thing'..." I repeated slowly, starting to weigh up my options of punching the idiot or just leaving him to fend for himself. In the end I decided to stay gentlemanly. "Care to elaborate?"

"Trust me dude, if you find it you'll know." And with that, he began looking at the ground.

I also scanned around, seeing if I could spot anything out of place, but at some point along the way I became preoccupied with just _looking _at this place. Leaves are rustling gently in the nightly breeze, flowers dancing with one another as the wind sweeps through them... and then there are all of the intriguing sounds that resonate throughout this place. Crickets, various species of bird that I have yet to place and all manner of other indigenous creatures join in with the little symphony, and the effect is somehow soothing. Then there is the moon; bathing everything in a glorious silver and making this place look absolutely stunning. A thought briefly crosses my mind and has my heart beating slightly faster: Perhaps America wanted to show me this? But it is quickly discarded because it was a stupid thought to even conjure up.

I glance up at the moon shining proudly in the inky sky and note the abundance of stars out tonight. Yes, this place really is wonderful, so much so that my earlier worries from earlier seem to fade away and a genuine smile crosses my lips. It's been a while, I suppose, since I've had anything really worth smiling about. But right here, right now, everything seems so peaceful and calm.

"Beautiful," I heard America breathe and I guess I have to agree; the night really is beautiful. I look away from the sky to give him some form of acknowledgement but falter greatly when it almost seems as though he was never looking up at the sky in the first place. He's looking at me.

_Me_.

But he couldn't have been talking about me, could he?

_Ba-thump. _

Wait, why am I even asking that? Of course he isn't. He _hates _me; I need to remember that. Besides, 'beautiful' is no compliment for a man at all! If, for whatever implausible reason, America dared to call me as such I would punch his bloody lights out. But... but the way he looks right now, his goofy grin replaced by such a tender smile... and looking at me... the moonlight must be playing tricks. I can't afford to think such nonsense, what the hell is wrong with me today? First getting flustered over the jacket and then holding hands and now this? I don't understand what this is.

I avert my gaze, a now familiar heat rising in my cheeks and I curse under my breath at this pathetic front I seem to have donned. Nevertheless I move my eyes to the sky and there they stayed until suddenly, a small streak of silver cut through the sky.

"Hey dude look! A shooting star!" America said excitedly, immediately going silent in order to focus on his wish, which I am damn sure will be about burgers or something along those lines. I find myself drawing a blank, not at all sure about what I wanted to wish for. In the end I opted for the generic 'world peace' seeing as there weren't really any good wishes I could think of. America seemed happy though, clearly having made a wish he thought would be worthwhile.

"Guess it's getting kinda late," he said after a moment.

"It would appear so... but I don't particularly want to leave," I said honestly. "I like this place."

"Oh?" America asked, his grin returning.

"Yes, it's marvellous."

"Well, glad I could lose something here then," he said happily.

"Ah yes, we still haven't found what you lost."

"Meh it's no big deal, don't sweat it. We can stay here longer if ya want though, the hero is willing to throw away his evening."

"How thoughtful," I said sarcastically, and he simply stuck his tongue out at me.

"But seriously, I'll take the first watch tonight so you can take your time England," he said much more softly.

And that had me getting all weird yet again.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2649-_

_I took England to that really cool place I found last night and he really enjoyed it!_  
><em>I'm so glad, I was worried he would think that it was all a waste of time but he said himself he liked it.<em>  
><em>And I saw him smile... It's been so long since I've seen him smile like that. This is gonna sound corny and so sappy but:<em>  
><em>Just seeing that smile made everything seem better. England really is beautiful. I don't even know if it's possible, but if it is then that smile made me fall for him even more.<br>And when I saw a shooting star, I wished that he would smile like that more often._

x~x~x~x~x

_Darkness._

_I'm surrounded by darkness; it's so lonely... There's only me and no one else; everything has just disappeared. _

_I attempt to walk through the darkness, but seeing as everywhere is just the same, intimidating black, it's hard for me to tell which direction I'm heading in, if I'm even heading in a straight line, and how far I've travelled._

_I think to myself that perhaps I deserve this eternal condemnation to be lost in a sea of nothingness. I cannot claim to be a saint, nor can I say that all of my actions have been good. Thinking about it now, this place seems rather fitting for me. The country that so often claims to be happy on their own and enjoy the isolation that comes with being an island nation, finally getting their way._

_And I hate it. I absolutely hate it, but it's only me here. There is no one to save me from the darkness, no one on whom I can fully rely, and the thought is a sad one. There isn't anyone who cares enough to even try to save me from this hell. Nevertheless I carry on walking, further and further until the unthinkable occurs and I can actually see a small ray of light in the distance._

_The closer I move towards it though, the further it seems to get. It's as though the light represents a happiness that I can see, but I can't ever have. Yet that seems unfair, why shouldn't I be happy? Why can't I get to the light?_

_And so I try to defy what I feel is fate_, _doing my best to reach that light until it dawns on me that perhaps _I _am the one keeping myself away from the light, _I_ am the one distancing myself from happiness. The thought seems feasible, especially going off the nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. But I shouldn't be nervous; I should just head towards the light and not take 'no' for an answer, right?_

_And so that is what I did, with a new resolution to finally allow myself to want this I head towards the light, and now it doesn't move away. Rather, it moves towards me with increasing speed until I am finally able to reach out and touch it. Upon contact it feels as though I am being swept away, any burdens I once carried being lifted and for the first time in such a long, long time I can feel optimism overwhelming me._

_The scene before me now is not one of darkness; it is one of beauty, one of peace. The sun is setting, turning everything to gold in its wake, and I stand out in the open in a place that I have never been before, but it's soothing._

_And then I feel safe as a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, holding me tight. I can feel the warmth, and I don't run, rather I turn around so that I can embrace it. And there before me is an Adonis with golden locks and a dazzling smile. And my heart is going crazy; my thoughts no longer make sense, yet somehow it all feels so _right.

_"England..." My name falls from his lips, causing me to shiver slightly, but the feeling is actually really pleasant. "England," he speaks again, and he leans in, the warmth radiating from him heightening with the close proximity. I am not shy by nature, but somehow I find myself looking away, out of embarrassment or nerves I'm not quite sure- perhaps a combination of the two. But then his hand is gently placed on my cheek, and our eyes meet, and I find myself unable to feel anything but complete and total trust- something that I had thought I was incapable of._

_This time when he leans in, I don't fight. In fact, I even do the same. And when our lips eventually meet it feels like I'm melting in that glorious heat, and anything that may have ever bothered me in the past is now irrelevant. Our lips move against each other slowly, getting a feel for each other, and it isn't long before they're moving more heatedly, moulding perfectly together as our breaths begin to become more laboured and soft moans escape my lips and everything is just so wonderful._

_When we break apart from each other, his arms stay wrapped around me and I move to put my arms around the back of his neck._

_"England," he says again, with so much love and emotion it nearly brings me to tears._  
><em>But I do manage to pull myself together long enough to breathe, "America..."<em>

My eyes snap open and I sit bolt upright in bed immediately. Feeling the need to try and put whatever the hell I was feeling into words the next thing I did was say very loudly, "What the _fuck _was that!" Following my question I was aware of the ludicrous speed my heart had adopted and to top everything off with a nice cherry I became aware of a presence that I honestly _don't_ want to be there right now.

"Dude, you okay?" America asked, moving towards my bed but I immediately yelled, "DON'T YOU DARE COME ANY CLOSER, GIT!"

He seemed confused at this reaction, which I suppose is reasonable. But I am past being reasonable, seen as I've just had the most _unreasonable_ _nightmare_ in the entire bloody universe! I don't even know where to fucking begin with how utterly insane and stupid and bloody ridiculous that whole thing was. It was bullshit! Where the hell did my mind even manage to come up with such a scenario?

I immediately murdered that small voice in my head that was telling me that dreams are actually subconscious desires, burning it in a pit of hellfire.

"Geez no need to get pissy about it," America said, and thanks to my newfound hyper-awareness of my current surroundings I noted the blush on his cheeks. Oh shit, _please _tell me that I wasn't-

"You were just moaning so I thought that maybe something had happened," he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

I clapped a hand over my mouth immediately, fuming at myself for starters before turning my glare on America and _for fuck's sake why won't my heart slow down? _

"I was not moaning you wanker!" I yelled defensively.

"You kinda were," he replied. "I was on watch and I heard you so I came to investigate..." he coughed awkwardly before seeming to return back to his normal idiot self. "So Iggy," he waggled his eyebrows, "What were you dreaming about?"

"Who are you, France?" I asked, throwing the covers off of my bed and getting up.

"I'm just curious," he said light-heartedly until my words fully registered and he said in a much more serious tone, "France?"

Huh, looks like even America gets offended by being likened to France.

"Yes, that is what I said," I said abrasively, and when I turned to look America no longer had an awkward look or his cheery demeanour or anything I'm used to seeing nowadays. He looked annoyed for whatever reason. Hang on; he did hear me correctly right? The last thing I need is him thinking that I have dreams about France that cause me to fucking _moan_ of all things. Then again, it's just as bad if he finds out it was actually _him _so I think I'll withhold that bit of information.

"I'm going on watch now," I said resolutely, because there will be ice-skating in hell before I go back to sleep tonight. Pre-empting what he was going to say next I intervened with, "I _know _it's not time yet but I don't bloody care! You can sleep, go!" And before any questions could be asked I stormed out of the tent in an utterly foul mood and wondering what the hell my mind thinks it's playing at.

My resolve was to not have anything to do with America and that is not subject to change! I am going to kill China for making me go on this damn assignment.

That dream was... I don't even know what the hell it was. Induced by fatigue? God knows, but it doesn't mean anything!

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump._ _Ba-thump. Ba-thump._

It doesn't...

x~x~x~x~x

**All right! Finally a bit of progression! :P One of the main reasons for the wait was cuz this chapter didn't wanna be written -_- However I have pretty much everything mapped out now so I should be able to update much sooner~ ^_^ And things are about to get interesting in the next chapter so look out for it! :D As always dearies, I love hearing from you all! So until next time then~ :)**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	17. Forced Progression

**Hello everyone~ Firstly: Thank you all so much for your reviews, this thing has broken 100 so I'm super grateful ^_^  
>If you've been on my profile then you'll know I has loads of horrid exams, hence my crappy updates (fans of INWYT, I'm doing my best! I'll try update that soon as well!). I just wanted to clarify about the last chapter. I realise that it was basically just filler, but a couple of key things happened in there that is gonna shape the rest of this story, or at least major relationship development. So I'm sorry if it seemed slow, but these next couple of chapters is where things change and if my calculations are correct (which they probably aren't but meh...) then there are only about 3 chappy's of this thing left (like I said though, this could be wrong :P)<br>Well, I'll stop babbling and write now :) **

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Seventeen- Forced Progression

I glared at the blackboard, looking at all the spirals and loops that had been drawn everywhere and not even bothering trying to make sense of the cryptic nonsense that had been scribbled up there.

"Does the idiot even _think _about what he does or does he just think 'screw it, I'll just be the biggest pain in the arse I can be!'?" I scowled.

Next to me France chuckled lightly. "I think 'e 'as 'is own way of dealing with things."

"Understatement of the bloody millennium."

He looked over the board and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Is that a dinosaur up there?" he asked.

"God knows, but I wouldn't put it past him to come up with a plan that involved them. Stupid git," I muttered. No wonder we had all decided to call a break if bloody _dinosaurs _have been considered to wipe the Axis out. Although I do wonder why the hell France decided to hang back, he's not exactly someone I'd wish to spend my precious few minutes of sanity with.

"Why so tense Angleterre?" the stupid frog asked, looking at me with curiosity. "You've been acting weird since you got back from your little date thing with Amérique a few weeks ago... did something 'appen?"

There were so many things wrong with that sentence I was honestly not sure where to begin. "Firstly it was not a date, it was an assignment," I bit out, "One that I had no desire to go on, I might hasten to add. And no, nothing at all happened you pervert."

He cocked his head to the side slightly and opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately decided against it and he went back to looking at the board.

"If you've got something to say, spit it out Frenchy."

"Hmm... You may not want to 'ear this," he said, not making eye contact and zoning in on some random place on the wall, "But whether you like it or not, I know you very well. So I know that something must 'ave 'appened, because anytime you're near Amérique..." his voice drifted off and didn't finish the sentence.

"I'm _what_?" I demanded.

"I can't really describe it... well, I guess I can but you'll probably 'ave a 'eart attack if I told you," he laughed quietly, which just annoyed me further.

"How the bloody hell do I act?" I snapped.

"You really are tense," he said, changing the subject and laughing when he saw me getting ready to explode. "Just calm down Angleterre." He reached out and I reflexively moved away, glaring at him.

"France, I swear to God if you don't tell me-"

"Ah! Bonjour Amérique~!" he cooed, looking behind me and smiling. I immediately froze, my eyes going wide as I debated whether or not to turn around. It would be weird if I didn't, wouldn't it? But then again it's not as though I really need to _acknowledge _the fact that he is in the room seeing as the damn tosser has already done it. But then...

I stood up quickly but ended up just standing there dumbly, looking like a complete and utter idiot. GAH! What the bloody hell is wrong with me? I mentally berated myself and I growled a bit as I realised that my cheeks were heating up. Damn, I guess I'll have to turn arou-

"Case and point, mon cher," France said, smirking up at me.

"W-What?" I asked, whirling around. There was no one there.

"Looks like our little 'ero is 'aving quite an interesting effect on you," he said, interlacing his fingers and propping his elbows up on the table, letting pure amusement shine through in his eyes. I, on the other hand, didn't see anything amusing about it in the least.

"That is a load of bullshit," I said resolutely. "America is simply another ally."

France raised an eyebrow. "And you call _'im_ an idiot? 'Ow 'ypocritical."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I all but snarled.

"It's no fun if I tell you now, is it Rosbif?"

"Tell me _what_?" I pressed, because clearly he knows something and it pisses me off to think that the stupid bastard has more knowledge than me on any subject matter- much less one that seems to pertain to me.

"I've managed to keep from saying anything for over a century now. If it really bothers you, then hurry up and figure it out for yourself already."

"Hmph, there's nothing for me to figure out. This situation is very black and white, you're just trying to stir shit because you've got nothing better to do," I said in a low voice, shooting my most poisonous glare at the country who just sat there smiling demurely. The only reason he can retain some semblance of calm is probably because for thousands of years now he's used to me looking at him with the same murderous intent. Sometimes he returns it, other times he pretends to ignore it. Then sometimes he does what he's doing now, which is to smile sweetly as if I have no effect on him- which of course is a lie, I know that bloody twat too well unfortunately, and I don't miss how he seems just a little bit tenser than usual. Aside from France, Russia is probably the only other country that can deflect my glare to some degree.

"I say this situation is nothing but grey mon cher," he said calmly, before a small smirk crossed his froggy lips. "After all, why else would you go from 'Brutal British Empire' to 'Blushing Bride' whenever young Amérique is around?"

"Blush- WHAT THE FUCK?" I yelled, eyes wide, completely shocked. Me? A blushing bride? I don't fucking blush! W-Well... Okay, perhaps I seem to blush _slightly _more than usual but... that doesn't mean anything dammit! And a 'bride'? Me? Hah, bride is the furthest thing from what I am. Besides, brides are usually innocent and pure or some crap along those lines. Those words are definitely _not _applicable to me no matter how you look at it. I don't see where the hell France is getting all of this bullshit from; it's not true in the least!

"The fact you can't reply to that proves I'm right," he smirked. "So, when can I expect an invite to the wedding?"

I would just like to make it abundantly clear that what I did next has nothing to do with the fact that France got to me. There was absolutely no basis for his accusations. In all honesty my body was just on autopilot and I barely even registered that I had punched the git until I felt a dull pain in my right hand, and I looked down to see that France had ceased being conscious. It occurred to me that perhaps I had gone a little too far, especially seeing as my punching him almost made it seem as though I thought he was right in some obscure way. If it didn't bother me, then logic dictates that I wouldn't have punched him.

That being said, when I looked and saw that he was, unfortunately, still breathing, it occurred to me that perhaps I hadn't gone far enough. I have every right to be angry at such nonsense. I do_ not _react differently to America and I most certainly do_ not_ exhibit behaviour similar to that of a blushing bride. I mean for Christ's sake, he was my little brother!

...

Shit, he was my little brother.

Yes, that's true. How could I feel anything for him other than pain at what happened? The closest thing to positive emotions I _should_ feel for him is that of familial ties, right? Or at the very least as allies or something. So then for France to say that actually my feelings differ from that... no, they can't possibly differ. I mean, because, that's just... not right. It _can't _be right. I- I raised him. So then that naturally equates to _that_ sort of thing just being... impossible. And of course there is absolutely nothing wrong with things being that way, because it just wouldn't make sense otherwise. A relationship that strayed too far away from what it _should _be isn't healthy or wise or... why the fuck am I even thinking about this? I've already established with myself and with the unconscious twit now on the floor that my feelings for him are definitely nothing like that.

And just to clarify, his aren't like that either. Obviously.

So there is no use in getting hung up about this or running in circles just because France made some ridiculous comment that probably had no purpose other than to irritate me.

"America is just another ally," I said to myself firmly, _making _myself remember that. "Just another ally, just another ally."

_Liar._

"Tch, stupid frog bastard. It's true, he's just another ally and _nothing more_..."

Somehow saying it out loud didn't help matters, but that's okay. That's fine. I've faced much worse than... whatever the hell this is. All I need to do is retain some semblance of me being in control of everything, which I am, really. The frog's words have shaken me up, certainly, but that surely has to be because the idea is so utterly preposterous to begin with. America was my little brother, the closest thing I've ever had to family thanks to the buggering knob-heads who I suppose are my actual brothers. My history with America, and most countries really, has been rocky. Our current relationship is strained to say the least, with us claiming to be allies but really that's just down to our bosses. I'm sure that if we were left to our own devices, then we wouldn't even be in contact with each other at the moment. I'm not sure what category we'd fall under, 'friends' is completely wrong; 'acquaintances' is inaccurate... 'reluctant allies' then? But whatever our relationship is now, the fact that he was once sort of an unofficial little brother will not change, and that is all I or anybody else should have to say on the matter.

Anything else is simply not possible.

x~x~x~x~x

"Urgh, Germany why do you have to be such a cryptic son of a bitch?" I groaned, letting my head fall against the desk I was working on. This is completely useless; I've been at this for freaking forever now and made no headway whatsoever. I lifted my head up slightly; sighing deeply as I looked at the map and the strange symbols that represent something I don't know. While England was busy ordering stacks of paper and books back when we were on our reconnaissance thingy I quickly found a blank piece of paper and hurriedly coped down that map that we couldn't make sense of. The only writing implements at my disposal were crayons but I managed to get the colours right and it looked pretty much the same as the original.

When we returned we had told the others about the letter and about the new tactic the Axis were trialling, but I kept quiet about the map- even England doesn't know. I know that maybe telling them about the map would be the better option, but... Well what if I _had _copied it down wrong? I don't need them blaming me for that, so it would help if I could at least have some idea about what I was looking at before presenting it to the others. They don't say anything, but sometimes I can't help but feel kinda nervous around them. Of course I'm a hero: that is a fact! But... it's also a fact that I am the youngest there by a mile. Those guys have lived for thousands of years where I've been around for a couple of centuries. It's hard getting the 'pros' to take the 'new guy' seriously. So I have to be extra sure of what I do to make sure I can be the hero and not an annoyance or anything.

Bleh, all these insecure feelings suck!

I vaguely wondered if there was time for me to grab a burger or something, but it was at that moment that I heard footsteps echoing down the corridor outside of the room. Looks like the others were arriving.

I hid the map from view, folding it and placing it in the pocket of my bomber jacket before leaning back casually on my chair to see who it was.

When the door opened I made sure I was grinning (although I was ready to glare if that commie bastard walked through the door) and my grin was met with a pair of emerald eyes that looked as though they had just seen a ghost.

"America?" England asked, rubbing his eyes and checking again.

"'Sup dude?"

"I... Sorry, but why are you here?"

"Huh?" I looked at him, confusion probably surrounding me. "Umm... ya know, we're the Allied side? The good guys? Here to kick some Axis ass and stuff?" I reminded.

"No not that! I meant that you're early." He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What's happened? You being the first one here doesn't make sense in any way, shape or form."

"Hey, you doubt me _that _much? I can totally be the first one here!" I put on a fake pout before grinning again.

He coughed slightly and averted his gaze, as if embarrassed about something. "I- I see... Well then, I suppose we should just wait for the others to-"

"Angleterre~ The gorgeous me shouldn't 'ave to get up so early, it is a crime!" came France's drawling voice before he appeared behind England, draping an arm around him.

"Oi! Get the hell off of me!" England reacted automatically, before another mini wrestling match triggered. I watched with detached interest, making sure Francy Pants kept his hands to himself for the most part, before I heard a disapproving Asian at the door.

"Honestly, those two are ridiculous aru!"  
>He strode into the room purposefully before taking a seat. Russia, that creep, was a few seconds behind but he paused for a moment as he watched the current brawl going on and he pulled out a lead pipe from God knows where. I felt a shiver run down my side, half of me wanting to beat the dude up just for existing and the other half being glad that he was actually on my side in this war.<p>

Eventually things started to settle down and everyone was seated for the most part, apart from China who stood up and asked if there was anything people wanted to start off by saying for this particular meeting. Seeing as no one offered anything, and France and England were busy glaring and each other, I thought I may as well try and grab some attention for a bit.

I stood up and slammed my hands down on the table dramatically. "ALL RIGHT! So, forget what I wrote on the board last time dudes!"

"You mean the one that involved dinosaurs?" England asked, rolling his eyes.

"Dinosaurs?" I asked, confused. "Dude, that was so obviously a grapefruit! How could you not know that?"

"That was a pamplemousse?" France asked in disbelief.

I sighed. "No dude, I said it was a grapefruit! Listen to the hero!"

"That's what I just-"

"How in God's name did you think a bloody _grapefruit _was going to beat the Axis?"

Well obviously I _didn't_ think a grapefruit was gonna beat 'em (cuz that's just stupid), but it got a great reaction out of England when I presented it so mission accomplished! I waved my hand in the air noncommittally and continued on. "That doesn't matter now! What does matter is that I just came up with an even sweeter method of attack that I'm calling Operation Octopus! Don't worry, it's all gonna become clear once I-"

"Would it kill you to come up with something plausible for once?" England glared.

"Woah, harsh much? You haven't even heard the plan! And I don't see anyone else offering suggestions!"

That definitely made everyone reconsider everything, because it was true: No one usually did have any ideas. I felt a tad superior for a moment, but then England had to slyly comment:

"Be that as it may, no suggestions are better than absolutely ridiculous ones."

"Aw c'mon, just gimmie a chance!" _Give me a chance... _wow, those words hold much more meaning than I was letting on. One day soon I'm pretty sure I'll have figured out the map and then everything will be okay, right? And then if I do that then maybe England will be impressed and take me more seriously. Granted I've not really given him much to take me seriously about since I joined the Allies, but at least he notices me more and will even converse with me now so it's all a step in the right direction! I grinned widely at him, making sure I was radiating hero charm, and I got the reaction that was beginning to become pretty regular.

A light blush.

England looks so cute when he blushes! If it was possible, my grin got even wider. YES! That's totally the right reaction! I can now say with certainty that I have some kind of effect on him, one that causes him to blush at that. So then that means I really do have a chance, right?

France started whistling a tune under his breath that sounded an awful lot like 'Here Comes The Bride' for some reason, which caused England's cheeks to go an even deeper pink before he turned to glare at him. I just shrugged and turned back to the board, beginning to draw an octopus while explaining my new plan that was obviously a load of crap but _soon _I'll surprise everyone with an actual plan of attack once I figure out that damn map. As usual China started huffing and aru-ing while Russia... well I don't know what the hell he was doing but it wasn't being normal that's for sure. After a couple of minutes, England spoke up.

"America, get away from the bloody blackboard! That doesn't even look like an octopus you git!"

I looked at the board and didn't comprehend. I had drawn an epic octopus that had guns for legs! Can't get much more awesome than that am I right? Figuring this was gonna be another silly fight, I started the way it usually went.

"Yeah? Well what do you know, old man?"

"I know that a sodding octopus looks nothing like that," he said resolutely, folding his arms.

"Yeah well maybe over on your island dude, but over in the Country of Epic we got badass octopuses like that!" And just for emphasis, I did the peace sign and winked. Sadly, that had no bearing on the Brit as he was currently in 'rage-mode'.

"No you don't! And it's we _have _got, idiot!"

"Meh, grammar ain't that important," I said, sticking my tongue out and laughing a bit because he looked ready to explode at the fact I used 'ain't'. I readied myself for another cutting insult containing the word 'git' or 'twit' or 'idiot' but what came next was something that I could not have prepared for, and it hurt. Actually, hurt isn't really a word strong enough to describe it really. It felt as though I had been punched in the gut repeatedly.

"Dear God what the hell happened to my cute little angel? You were so much cuter and sweeter when you were younger! I liked you much better back then!"

I sort of froze for a moment upon hearing that. It was as if absolutely everything- the pointless debates, the cutting insults, then the subsequent conversations and the fact that we can feel even just a bit more comfortable around each other now- crumbled apart and left nothing but rubble behind. The words swirled about in my head, getting louder and louder until I thought I was honestly gonna break down and scream right there and then.

_"You were so much cuter and sweeter when you were younger!"_

I gulped, determined to try and keep it together, but my vision went all weird for a bit. Even after all of this time he's seriously bringing that up? But I thought that I had finally managed to become equal and- well, I _have _become equal. I'm a country in my own right now! So then why, _why _did he just-

_"I liked you much better back then!"_

Does this mean that despite everything, I'm still just seen as a 'little brother' to him? Have I seriously not even changed in his eyes at all? But- But that's not fair! I never talk about the past or do anything that would make him consider me as his brother anymore, so why am I still stuck in the same _fucking_ place I was back when I was 'Colonial America' and not 'The United States Of America'?

I shook my head a bit to bring me back to reality, finally focusing on England who still looked pissed off but I could see him wondering why I hadn't said anything in retaliation. I took a deep breath before forcing out a laugh that probably sounded way louder and high pitched than usual but it was the best I could manage at the moment.

"Drop dead England!" I said while still laughing, England simply huffing and turning away to glare at the table for a bit- completely unaware of the gravity of what he has just said. I quickly turned around and continued scribbling on the board, not really focusing on anything and just making a huge chalk scribble.

What will it take for him to just open his eyes already and see how I feel? I take a step back and he completely ignores me, I try and act kind and he acts coldly, I act annoying and then _he _gets annoyed as well... it seems that the only damn thing I _haven't _tried is to just be forceful. I'm strong, so I know that it would probably be easy for me to just capture his hands, back him up against a wall and _show _him, and then he wouldn't consider me a little brother. I could do it, I could.

No, I couldn't.

Not only would England end up hating me, that's not how I wanna go about this. It's not how a hero would act but more than that, I'd never forgive myself if I really did force myself on him. How could I even have thought that?

Maybe... maybe he didn't really mean it. I mean, obviously I don't want him to drop dead, you just say things in the heat of the moment. So he could have just said that without thinking, right? Surely I'm still not seen as...

I sighed and stopped my mindless scribble on the board. "Okay dudes, as the hero here I'm declaring a burger break!" I said, not turning around and ignoring the exasperated sighs and annoyed comments as I headed for the door and didn't turn to look at any of them. When the door closed behind me, I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding and it was much more of an effort than I thought it would be to keep me from just sliding down to the floor and wondering what I should do now.

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2700-_

_You know England, sometimes I fucking hate you.  
>You can see it sometimes, with past entries, not all of them are positive. Sometimes I curse you out or wish I'd never even met you.<br>Then again, it would be worrying if everything I wrote was like something out of a sappy novel.  
>So yeah, sometimes I hate you. And right now is one of those times.<br>Is it really SO HARD for you to figure out my feelings already?  
>Wait, don't answer that. Clearly it is, because now you don't give a damn about reminding me all the fucking time about me being your little brother.<br>I can't change what I once was to you, but I am not that to you now dammit! So stop saying how you preferred me back then or how much better I was back then!  
>Just look at the me that's in front of you now! Why is that so difficult?<br>And ya know what pisses me off even more? The fact that no matter how much you piss me off, no matter how much I swear and punch pillows or walls or any surface...  
>No matter how much I say I hate you, I still love you.<br>And it's not fair.  
>I didn't ask to feel this way! You think this is easy for me? Well it fucking isn't! And what's even sadder is that I've even tried to stop feeling this way about you on multiple occasions and failed every damn time!<br>It's confusing and painful and fucked up._

I was pressing the pen down so hard that then pen nearly tore through the page, but at that moment I didn't care. I was close to just throwing the stupid journal through a window or something, and I probably would have done it too if the phone on my desk hadn't started ringing. I glared at it, as if it was the phone that had taken it upon itself to remind me pretty much every day for the past month that I 'was so cute back when I was little' and that England 'did such a great job raising me I should be the most grateful being in existence'. I did realise that it wasn't the phone's fault that my love interest still sees me as a kid brother and has even taken to calling me 'boy' and 'lad', so I reluctantly picked it up.

"Yo, you've got America," I said half-heartedly.

"Ah, bonjour Amérique~ I was 'oping you'd still be up~!" came the over dramatic voice that could only belong to one person.

"Hey France," I said noncommittally. "'Sup?"

"I was just wondering if you were free after the meeting tomorrow? There is something I would like to discuss with you."

"Can't you just tell me now?" I asked, practically slamming my journal shut and shoving it as far away on the desk as would allow.

"Non, unfortunately this is something that 'as to be done face to face."

This seemed a bit odd but I wasn't really in the mood to press matters at the moment, what with the England thing and the fact that I still can't work out that stupid map. "Okay, sure dude."

"Fantastique~!" France exclaimed happily. "Well then, meet me at the room furthest down the corridor about ten minutes after the meeting 'as finished, don't be late~!" He said that last part as if he was holding back laughter for some reason, but when I glanced over at the clock on the nearby wall and saw how late it was, I put it down to me just being paranoid.

"'Kay, see ya tomorrow then. Later."

"Au revoir!"

The line went dead and I just sighed as I pulled the map from the pocket of my bomber jacket and unfolded it. Trying to figure the thing out serves as a decent distraction usually, until the point where it gets tedious and then I end up super annoyed. But I decided to give it another once over in case I spotted anything that I had previously missed.

x~x~x~x~x

"Can we just call it a day now? Once again, nothing productive in the least has gotten done and I'm dreadfully tired," I said, fed up of trying to remain in a decent posture on my chair and slumping a bit. Every meeting just gets more and more tiring, and there are less elements of 'meeting' and more elements of 'petty bickering'. I sighed in relief when I saw the room consent to my suggestion and I hastily gathered all of my papers together and put them into my briefcase as neatly as I could, before standing and hurrying for the door before anyone else had even started packing their utensils away.

I sighed again once I was out in the corridor and ran a hand through my hair. I had just reached the conclusion that a scotch (or five) would be just the thing to help me temporarily forget the chaotic meetings when France felt the need to materialise out of thin air and grab my arm.

"Oi! What the hell are you-"

"Angleterre, now is not the time," France said, sounding serious for once. I raised an eyebrow at him but he carried on looking ahead, not letting go of my arm and leading my down the corridor away from the entrance. I shook my head and snatched my arm away. He looked about ready to protest but I held a hand up.

"You look serious Frog, so as long as whatever you have to say isn't a waste of time I will listen." He nodded his understanding and I followed him, quietly marvelling at the fact that I was actually willingly going along with France for once. Really, this whole 'allies' business has certainly changed lot of things. Once we had reached the furthest room down, France opened the door and raised an eyebrow in a quiet gesture for me to go in. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, because this is very un-France like and was slightly unnerving. Nevertheless he rarely has his moments of seriousness and so I thought I'd give him the benefit of the doubt just this once- he probably knew I wouldn't hesitate to knock him out again if he was simply playing some kind of joke.

Once I had stepped through the threshold and into the middle sized room I took a moment to take in my surroundings, noting the filing cabinet in the back right corner and the big desk that took up the rest of the back wall. Apart from a potted plant and a couple of chairs awkwardly dotted about, the place was sparse. I walked to the back, just in front of the desk and turned in time to see France step in and leave the door open just slightly, but he stood in front of it- as if in some subtle attempt to block me from leaving.

"Well? Get on with it then," I said impatiently.

"You know mon ami," France said, before letting out a long sigh, "You're crimes against l'amour are shocking."

"I beg your pardon?" I asked, wondering what the bloody hell he was talking about.

"I suppose it is not fair to blame the whole thing on you, the other player in this little game is just as much at fault."

"France, what are you-"

"When are you going to be honest with yourself?" he asked, not allowing me to finish my earlier sentence but I found that was rather irrelevant now that he had started being even more obscure.

"You're not making any sense, frog."

"Oh really? Well then allow me to be more direct then, _Angleterre_." He caught my gaze and I found myself unable to look away, and I suddenly felt very uncomfortable, as if I really didn't want to hear what he had to say. In the end, only one word fell from his lips.

"Amérique."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Had I missed something? What did America have to do with anything? Clearly France saw my confusion and deigned to elaborate.

"This whole 'liked you better when you were younger' business is a load of... 'ow do you call it? Ah oui, _bullshit_."

"What the bloody hell do you know?" I asked, the volume of my voice rising. "Why _wouldn't_ I have preferred him back then?"

"Exactement. Why wouldn't you? Mais you don't do you? And now you're running away. 'Ow cowardly."

"Tch, I'm not running away from anything! It's not _my _fault that he was better as a chi-"

"And there it is again, blatant lies Angleterre. You want to know what I think?"

I glared at him. No, I did _not_ want to know what he thought but I had a feeling he was going to tell me anyway and he was still stood in front of the door.

"I think you say it as some sort of comfort, so you can 'ide in the past. Because you've already noticed that 'e is no longer a boy, that you don't prefer 'im as a little kid, and it scares you."

"Me? Scared? Good one France," I said, but my voice was wavering. I gritted my teeth, _refusing _to acknowledge what he had just said because that's not why I say it! It's not, it's not, _it's not! _"I- I don't feel that way about him," I said resolutely.

"Don't or won't?" France asked, his voice steady and his eyes never once leaving my face, so he can gauge my reactions. "You're conscious of 'im Angleterre, you know you are. And yet here you are trying to suppress it, to run away. I've never seen you act like this before, you _used _to take whatever you wanted, _fuck _whoever you wanted-"

"I'm not the same as I was back then!" I practically shouted. "I was stupid, I can see that. It's different now; the times have changed. But what _won't _change is the fact that America was my little brother and that this conversation is a sodding waste of time because the furthest my feelings towards him go is that of vague recognition!"

The annoying Frenchman looked at me almost pityingly and shook his head sadly. "Angleterre... so what if 'e _was _you little brother? There are no blood ties, you were away fighting wars for quite a lot of 'is childhood- and don't deny it because Spain and I can easily provide more than enough evidence for it. Besides, we're countries," he caught my gaze and made sure he held it as he said, "So that means that everyone is fair game."

"Th-That's... I..." I tried to think of something, _anything_, to say to that. "France, you honestly have it all wrong," I said weakly.

"Oh really? Then why 'ave you taken to leaving the meetings as quickly as you can now? You used to be one of the last ones there."

"That's because-" _So I don't end up alone with America _"-C-Contrary to popular belief, I _do_ have a life and places I'd rather be than these stupid bloody meetings."

"Why do you blush when he grins at you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, it's simply-" _Because his grin is dazzling and just lights everything up and despite the fact that we are in a war, when he grins like that, it makes it seem as though everything is going to be okay _"-because he looks like such an idiot and he pisses me off."

"So explain to me why you steal glances at 'im when you think that no one is looking."

"For fuck's sake France, what is this? The fucking Spanish Inquisition?" I yelled.

"Answer the question Angleterre."

"I have no idea what you're talking about-" _Because he's so optimistic, has become such an amazing country in his own right, and everything about him is just a breath of fresh air and when he looks at me with those sky blue eyes I feel... _"-why would I waste my time staring at that idiotic git?" By this point my voice had been reduced to nothing but a hoarse whisper, but I did my best to carry on glaring at France and when he just sighed again I took that as my cue to push past the stupid Frenchy and return back to sanity.

I took a step forward, but so did France.

"Honnêtement, I think you just don't want to admit that you're falling in-"

"Don't. Say. It." I bit out.

He blinked innocently before he smirked. "Don't say what? That your real feelings towards him are far from familial ties, but similar to that of lo-"

"I SAID DON'T SAY IT!" I shouted, clenching my fists and ready to actually kill him this time around.

It's not true, it can't be true; I won't allow it to be true. It can't be said out loud, because then that makes it seem real and it isn't. This is a lie, this is delirium, this is insanity. It's not like that, will never be like that. _He _will never feel like that.

France held his hands up in surrender when he saw me take another threatening step forward. "Well then, perhaps now wasn't the time to bring this up. It's just that Amérique looks so lost every time you refer to the past... I suppose that you're right, you really don't feel anything towards 'im."

"Of course, that's what I've been saying!" I felt relief wash over me, glad that he was going to let up on the questions that I've managed to keep from asking myself. It's not running away, it's making sure everything stays under control. I noticed France turn his head towards the door for a moment, and I looked as well. It seems as though my momentary distraction was all he needed from me, because the next thing I know is that he has thoroughly invaded my personal space.

"Perhaps this is just stress, let me... relieve you," he whispered, and then before I knew it his lips were on mine.

My eyes widened, and my brain decided it wanted to shut down at that moment. I'd just gone through questions that have left me completely drained and now I've got the damn frog _kissing me_? What the fuck is going on! I made an attempt to push him away, because it just feels _wrong_, but seeing as my thoughts are whirling I'm not at my full physical capability and so he easily pushed my hands aside and carried on. I wish I could say that this feeling was unfamiliar, but France had been enough of a douche to bring my past up. Indeed, if this were a hundred or so years ago I would probably already have him stripped down and moaning beneath me. I suppose there would be less of this kissing lark, because he said it himself: I fucked whomever I wanted to; I didn't make love or anything. So kissing him now just doesn't make any sense.

I began to feel sick at the past me who had such flagrant disregard for something that's supposed to bring couples closer. I'm not exactly a romantic, but ever since Shakespeare and those of his ilk I've tried to treat this sort of thing with more respect. The frog is a hypocrite though, constantly professing to be the 'Country of Love' and yet he used to be the same as me and probably still is if this is any indication to go by. I thought I was actually going to throw up when I felt him trying to use that disgusting, slimy tongue of his and I finally came to my senses, ready to murder him in cold blood when all of a sudden the door flew open.

"Yo France! I've just figured ou-"

The voice was unmistakable. I felt myself go pale, and I hastily shoved the idiot off who looked very pleased with himself. I scowled at him, but I couldn't help my eyes from going over to the door where a very stunned American now stood. I wanted to scream.

I quickly reached out and grabbed France's collar, whispering only loud enough for him to hear, "You had better keep your fucking distance from me frog, because I swear to God if you come within ten metres of me I will end you." And with that, I stalked past him and pushed passed America who appeared to be mimicking a statue at this current moment in time.

When I was a few steps away, I ran.

x~x~x~x~x

I flicked a pencil from one hand to the other, bored stiff and just wanting the meeting to end already. When I was about to suggest we call it a day or something, because nothing got done anyways, England spoke up and offered sweet sweet salvation.

"Can we just call it a day now? Once again, nothing productive in the least has gotten done and I'm dreadfully tired," he said, looking at all of us sat around the table. I nodded eagerly, and France agreed along with China. Russia started making some weird noise, but I'm pretty sure that's his way of saying yes... well, I _hope _it is. I watched as England quickly gathered all of his stuff together and wondered why he always seemed to be in such a rush lately, but I didn't say anything because we're currently not talking to each other after our latest argument today. They keep getting more pointless and I forget how we even end up fighting but it happens, and he says his new favourite insult about the child me kicking the present me's ass, and then I throw another insult back, and then there's just awkward silence.

I sighed once he had exited the room and started to collect my stuff together before France came over and clapped me on the shoulder.

"Don't forget to meet up with me in ten minutes okay?" he asked, and although he was smiling I could tell that something was kinda off. He wasn't as sparkly or whatever.

"Sure thing, I'll be there," I said, causing him to nod his approval before heading out of the room.

Soon it was just me left, and I figured that I may as well look at the map again seeing as I had a few minutes to kill. I laid it out on the table and looked, not spotting anything new but it didn't surprise me.

"Why can't this spell everything out like that letter did?" I pouted, wondering if there was any way I could somehow trick Italy into telling me what the hell this thing represented. All I can tell is that it's a map of Europe, and then there are different lines and symbols drawn all over the place, but nothing obvious like a giant red X unfortunately.

Then it occurred to me that I found the letter and the map together...

"Oh man, _duh,_" I said out loud, wondering how the hell I'd missed that. Up until now I'd been treating them as separate things, but what if they have to do with each other? I thought back to what England had told me the letter said and tried to apply it to the hastily scribbled crayon map.

"Okay, so if that blue thingy means they launch an attack from the West from this red thing- oh, is that a river? So then if they attack across there and end up at the green dot then, uhh..." I looked at the map, sure that I was onto something. Either way, Germany and Italy are gonna launch another attack, and from the looks of this it appears like it's gonna happen real soon. And then, thanks to a series of inconspicuous pink spirals that appeared to have been placed haphazardly but it turned out to be some highly complex and well thought through pattern, it seemed to make sense. And it kinda spelled bad news for us if we didn't come up with a way to counter it.

I quickly looked at the clock on the wall and saw that pretty much ten minutes had passed, so I shoved the map back in my pocket and practically ran down the corridor because this is totally what we need right now! We can now come up with decent strategies and now I can actually be taken seriously!

Finally, after a sucky few weeks everything seems to be going right!

I'll tell France first seeing as I'm meeting him now for some reason, then I can tell the others as soon as I can. I sprinted the rest of the short distance to the furthest room at the end of the corridor and slammed the door open because this is the kind of news that _deserves _dramatic door swinging.

"Yo France! I've just figured ou-"

It wasn't so much as I cut myself off, it was more to do with the fact that the words honestly just died off and I couldn't speak anymore. I honestly couldn't believe what I was seeing; didn't _want _to believe what I was seeing. Because I thought I was coming here for a chat with France, not to see him trying to tongue wrestle with England. I know that this is the part where I'm supposed to get angry, or burst into tears, or just _do something_. But there were so many conflicting emotions battling to come out that in the end I was paralyzed and couldn't do anything.

I saw England push France away before whispering something that I'd rather not know about, and even though I wanted to reach out and stop him from leaving as he passed me, even though I knew that any second now I was either gonna be seriously pissed off or having a break down as my heart tore in two, I still just stood there, and then England was gone and there was France smirking at me from where he stood in the room.

"So glad you could show up Amérique," he said as though I _hadn't _just walked in on him with his tongue down England's throat. His eyes sparkled, practically challenging me to do something. But despite everything, I didn't wanna give him the damn satisfaction. I guess there was always a part of me that wondered what those two were to each other thanks to France's actions and that dream England had that time, and I guess now I know. But I can deal with this cuz... yeah, I'm the hero...

I forced myself to pull a face, "Dude, ya mind? I'd rather have some kinda warning before walking in on two old men making out, gross!"

France sighed. "Drop the act Amérique."

I faltered for a moment, but I managed to carry on. "What act?" I asked, forcing myself to grin, "I'm just the same as always dude!"

"That is true, you're always trying to cover it up, just like 'im... you two really are 'opeless, you know that?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. "What are you-"

"When I joined you all those years ago, remember what I asked? About why you of all people, who 'as ever been the closest to Angleterre anyone 'as ever been, would be fighting 'im?"

I nodded, wondering where this was going.

"You answered because all you wanted was freedom, and because you 'ate England... but I told you that I 'ad been around long enough to know when someone is lying." He began to pace around the room slowly with a wistful look on his face, as though recalling something. "It is a very powerful emotion, 'ate. It can cause you to do all manner of stupid things, it is truly a driving force and a very destructive emotion. But there is an emotion stronger than 'ate, an emotion that drives you more, causes you to react more, causes you to do even stupider things but also wonderful things as well." He stopped and looked at me seriously.

"I can appreciate that you wanted your freedom, it's only natural. But I don't believe the reason you wanted it so quickly and were willing to go through such a 'uge war to obtain it when you could 'ave gone about it more peacefully even if it would 'ave taken much longer wasn't because you 'ate 'im, but the opposite. Amérique, you _love_ Angleterre, non?"

My eyes widened. "N-No! Don't be stup-"

"Amérique," he said sternly.

I looked up and sighed. "I... yeah." I looked down at the floor and wondered if I really had been that obvious, for him to have known so long. But then a thought occurred to me and, way overdue, anger finally decided to flare up. "Wait a sec! If you knew then just now why were you-" I didn't wanna finish the sentence, but he clearly knew where I was going with the thought.

"I told you that any day someone could take 'im, I just thought I'd make a point," he shrugged.

"So tell me then, what's stopping me from punching you right now?"

He laughed even though I'd clenched my fists and was seriously considering following through. "What good would that do? You may 'urt me for a bit, but Angleterre would still be clueless and you'll still keep going around in circles. It's getting frustrating actually, so unless what you saw today wasn't enough of a shock then I can easily arrange for you to walk in on us in a more... compromising position."

I narrowed my eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," he smirked. "I know everything about 'im: 'is likes, 'is dislikes, what to say do 'im, what to _do _to 'im. Every little sensitive thing. For over a thousand years 'e's been in my life so tell me, why should _you _of all people, who knows next to nothing, be with 'im?"

I gritted my teeth. "So what if you've known him longer? That doesn't change my feelings or anything!"

"Really? You 'aven't done anything to show it though."

"It's not simple to deal with!" I protested.

"Of course it is, all it takes is three little words mon ami... unless you really want me to take it further with Angleterre," he winked as he said that last bit.

"England would never go along with it."

"Wouldn't 'e? Amérique I think you should understand that our resident Brit 'asn't exactly 'ad the best experiences when it comes to amour of any sort. Not only that, but things used to be very different centuries ago. Intimacy doesn't 'ave any significant meaning to 'im, so I wouldn't be stating that so confidently if I were you."

My face fell then, but he continued to speak.

"That doesn't mean there's no 'ope for 'im though. Just because love is a word that previously meant nothing to 'im doesn't mean that's the case now. You 'ave some sort of effect on 'im, that much is obvious, but this is so different and confusing for 'im that I doubt 'e'll ever admit it to 'imself let alone out loud. So that is where you come in." He walked up to me to make extra sure he had my attention. "Tell 'im."

"No, I can't do that! Our relationship at the moment is strained enough without me complicating it further!"

"Oui, but the longer you keep it 'idden the longer 'e 'as to deny everything and lock you out completely."

"But I-"

"Amérique, if absolutely everything between you two was so meaningless that it can be wrecked so easily with one statement of love then there was never going to be a chance in the first place. Run, catch 'im, tell 'im... or one day you really will be driven mad and you'll lose 'im."

I wondered if this was the same France who decided that capes should be the standard for military uniform, because he's making so much sense it's annoying. And I know that if I just carry on this way nothing will happen, so that only leaves the final option that could make or break me...

I hadn't realised that I'd turned around and was running back down the corridor until I realised that I hadn't actually punched him... well I suppose I could get even later, but for now I had a mission and the quicker I found England and told him the better because if I thought about this any longer then there is no way I could go through with it. I carried on running, past caring that I had no idea where England had gone and deciding that surely I'd come across him at some point.

And then I heard an angry mutter that sounded a hell of a lot like, "Stupid French bastard," as I went past one of the rooms and I stopped abruptly. I tried to calm my breathing but after about half a minute I realised that it wasn't gonna happen anytime soon, so I took a deep breath and tried to ignore how my heart was pounding so loudly that I wouldn't be surprised if England could hear it already. I opened the door and sure enough there was England, leaning against a wall and looking like he was mulling over something pretty serious. It didn't look as though he had heard me enter, so I coughed a bit and he instantly looked up.

"Uh... Hey England!" I said as cheerily as I could.

"What do you want, git?" he scowled, looking away.

I took another deep breath and quietly closed the door behind me. "Actually... I kinda have to tell you something."

"Oh bloody hell, if this is about what you saw with France then I would prefer you to never mention that utterly horrific incident ever again."

I chuckled a bit at the look of disgust on his face, but quickly remembered why I was here. "Uh, no it's not that. This is something important, something that I need to tell you now and I'd really appreciate it if you'd just let me finish before you judge me or anything." I felt so damn nervous, and the palms of my hands were sweating, and my heart felt like it was gonna burst, but I was gonna tell him. I had to tell him now before it really is too late.

Although England looked like he wanted to run away he probably saw how I didn't seem like my regular self so nodded after hesitating for a moment. "Very well then, what is it?"

I steadied myself, knowing that what I'm about to say next will either shatter our fragile relationship into a million pieces that would never be able to be put back together again, or could be the start of something new. I desperately tried to ignore the voice in my head that was screaming at me that the outcome would most definitely be the former. I looked up and locked my gaze with those emerald eyes that never fail to make me breathless, making sure that he wouldn't look away, and then I walked down the road of no return.

"England, I love you."

x~x~x~x~x

**BOOM! The secret's out! How will England react? What's next for these two? Why the bloody hell was France so damn sensible in this chapter? Actually the answer to that last one is cuz even though France is a total fop I think he has his moments of wisdom. I'm terribly sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger my darlings but it's all in the name of drama and suspense and the fact that I really should get back to revising, so thank you for reading and please review because they are my salvation during this awful time! Until next time~**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


	18. Only Fools Fall

**Hello everyone :) I'm sorry about the cliffhanger but you can't deny the suspense, right? :P So then, here is the long awaited reaction from our gentleman! Also, there'll be journal entries you've seen in this chappy and also some you haven't, just thought you should know to clear any confusion there might be :)  
><strong>

x~x~x~x~x

Chapter Eighteen- Only Fools Fall

"England, I love you."

There are some things in this world that do not make sense. During my existence I have had plenty of encounters with strange phenomena, I've been around when huge technological advancements had been made that at the time didn't make sense and seemed almost like magic, or make believe. I believe that now is one of those times, because those words being spoken do not make sense. My name along with those three words is, quite simply, incomprehensible.

It is made even more so when one considers the person speaking them.

America coughed awkwardly before continuing on. "I have for quite a while now... well, uh, I guess a long while really, haha," he laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck. Meanwhile I'm busy pinching myself to see if I have unwittingly fallen asleep, after all my dreams have been taking a slightly... unorthodox turn recently. Unfortunately, this is precisely the kind of scenario that my dream self is often subjected to- well, this and more if we are being perfectly honest, but I can hardly control dreams, therefore it means nothing.

When it becomes blatantly obvious that no, this isn't actually a dream, confusion sets in.

"I beg your pardon?" I manage after a moment, and America says it again:

"I love you."

Okay, so I hadn't misheard. I glanced around, wondering if someone had put him up to this or if I'd unknowingly already made it to a bar and drunk my self so stupid that I was having strange delusions. I mean really, the concept of what is being said is so _laughable _that-

Laughable.

I couldn't help it, just the notion sort of set me off and before I knew it I was laughing. It was a hearty laugh, yet one that was most definitely forced and a little too high pitched to be natural. Yet despite the nature of the sound I haven't laughed in ages, and now I just can't control it! I leant against the wall, unable to stop now as tears began to form in my eyes and my sides began to hurt but really this is simply ludicrous. The fact that America would go _this __far _to spite me? What is he trying to accomplish? 'Get a funny reaction from the old man', is that his objective? America doesn't tell me, 'I love you' anymore. He had made it quite clear all those years ago that he didn't. For him to say it now? I must be more hated than I originally thought.

No, this is a laugh I have laughed many times when the world was against me and all you could do was laugh- because laughing is better than crying at the fact that people will go to such extraordinary lengths to bring you down.

"G-God America!" I managed, still laughing but doing my best to control it, "I really had no idea that you loathe me so thoroughly!" I rubbed my eyes free of tears, my body still shaking slightly whenever I recall the situation I have found myself in. "Well I do hope that you can have just as much of a laugh as I've just had," I said as I finally managed to compose myself. "Whatever form of amusement you hoped to glean from this little joke of yours, I'm sure, has been provided."

I shook my head a bit, shocked that America was the type of person to do something like this, before looking up and expecting him to be wearing a smug grin or something similar. But he wasn't. He looked... deflated.

He took a deep breath and looked right at me, his expression so utterly serious and quite unlike anything I've seen before coming from him.

"I'm not joking," he said steadily in a low tone.

That caused me to falter once again, because either that Hollywood place has turned America into one of the finest actors on this earth or...

"You... You can't be serious..." I said, searching those eyes for some sort of tell tale sign- any sort of indication that he would snap out of it and say, 'Haha! Just kidding, you should've seen yer face dude!'

Yet that sentence never came.

I felt my heart clench, and all of a sudden breathing became difficult. What is he trying to say? It doesn't make sense, why would he...?

"I don't know what France did to get you to do this, but really-"

"England, just please at least see I'm not joking!"

I stopped my sentence and simply stared, sure I was resembling a goldfish.

And then finally, my brain came up with the only logical explanation for this whole affair.

"Ah... I see," I said, smirking a bit.

"Y-You do?" America asked, looking so hopeful that I had to grit my teeth to remind myself the real reason for his visit.

"I suppose you're at 'that age' right? Sorry, but regardless of what rumours you've heard, I am no longer interested in quick fucks. If you want that sort of thing then try France, he is always willing."

"What?" America asked, seemingly completely shocked by my conclusion before he blushed a bit. "N-No! That's not what I'm after, honest! I'm not just after a fling!"

I just snorted derisively. "Oh, of course not." It must be, what would a country like America know about 'love'? He simply hasn't matured enough to know the difference between love and lust.

"I really mean it, I know that this is a crap time to say it, what with being in the middle of war and all, and I'm not putting what I feel into words that great because it's never really been my strong point, but I love you and- wait. Just so ya know, I don't love you like a brother. And I am seriously _not _just after a one night stand or whatever. You get it right?" he asked, his eyes searching mine. Those blue eyes that once again have that conflicted look, America's stance for once so unsure of things. And then, looking so sincere, he said:

"I'm in love with you."

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump. _Ba-thump._  
><em>

No... why? Why is my heart beating so fast? That's... that's not fair. That's not _right_. He's had my heart before, and he broke it. Completely shattered and warped it until it was beyond recognition. So why the fuck is it reacting like this? It's not fair!

"No..." I said shakily."Don't be ridiculous, you were my little brother and-"

"Shut up about me being your brother!" he shouted suddenly, clenching his fists and looking extremely pissed off. "I _was _your little brother. _WAS! _Our positions and relationship have completely changed since then! Why can't you get that into your head?"

France's words echoed in my head:

_"You've already noticed that 'e is no longer a boy, that you don't prefer 'im as a little kid..."_

_"You're conscious of 'im Angleterre, you know you are..."_

Shit... shit, shit, _shit! _So what if I know that's not the way it is now? Of course I've noticed! I'm not an idiot! But if I voice and accept that, it's almost as if I'm allowing myself to think of us differently, and I can't let that happen. I've been hurt once and it hurt far more than any physical wound inflicted upon me. So whether it's my own insecurities or something else, I _refuse _to acknowledge this drastic change, because otherwise I might... maybe...

_"Your real feelings towards him are far from familial ties, but similar to that of lo-..."_

_Love._

__Ba-thump. Ba-thump. _Ba-thump.___

No... I can't.

"Don't confuse past familial ties with sexual desire," I said resolutely.

"I swear that's really not how it is. I know you don't believe me, but please England-"

"NO!" I shouted, overdue anger finally deciding to show up and aid me. I glared at him. "You have _no fucking right _to say that to me! Do you hear me? Who the fuck do you think you are? You walked away all those years ago, we've barely even been in contact since that time, it took France getting his arse severely kicked by Germany and for me to have been fighting this war on my goddamn _own _for a_ year _before you even_ deigned _to consider joining, and even then it took Japan acting like a fucking moron to make you wake up and see what the hell was going on! And on top of all of that, you do nothing but insult me every waking moment now that we are supposedly allies. So tell me, America, why the hell I should believe you when you swan in here and confess something so utterly implausible and unbelievable?"

"England, I-"

"Don't you dare try and make up excuses America! Don't act all sincere like you actually give a shit! No one has ever cared about me and you know what? I can deal with that. But I don't need you coming in here and blatantly _mocking _me!"

"It's not like that!" America insisted desperately, his eyes beseeching and he looked so lost, so un-America that again I have to wonder if there is perhaps a hint of truth to his words. But no, I can't begin to comprehend it, because if I do then I am straying into dangerous, foreign territory and I don't think I can stand being made a fool of so spectacularly without finally breaking completely.

"Trust me England, for so long now I've felt like this!"

I chuckled a bit then, because really: what is a long time to a country like America? He has the attention span of a wooden spoon and, all things considered, he's only a few centuries old. Five minutes would seem like 'a long time' to a country like him. So then why does he keep insisting on keeping up this charade?

"Is that so? Well, for so long I've stood on my own and not opened up to anyone. The second I did, it blew up spectacularly in my face." I took a step forward, almost threatening, towards America as I carried on. "No one tells me that they 'love' me, that word is overrated anyway. Love is stupid. Did you think you could come in here and everything would work out?" Another step. "Well newsflash America: You are just an immature brat. We will _not_ win the war using octopuses or various fruit, hamburgers are _not _healthy for you, you are _not _a hero and-" I stood so close that if I reached out I could touch him- "I think you are speaking utter bullshit, and quite frankly I was better off before you even came over here."

_Liar._

"Actually scratch that: I was better off before you came into my life."

_Liar._

"I don't want anything to do with you and I wish I'd never even met you! Understood? Welcome to the real world."

_You fucking LIAR!_

And with that I walked past him and out of the room, not pausing to see how he would react or reply but desperately needing to get the hell out of there and away from him, away from these _feelings_, away from everything.

And as I walked down the corridor I failed to comprehend that I had picked up the pace until I was running, or that my heart was hammering so hard as a result from something _other _than the physical exertion, and that tears were threatening to fall, until I was well away from the building and surrounded by the cold night air.

But even when I had created the distance, even when I was surrounded by the darkness of the night, I could still see bright blue eyes that held nothing but truth, and hear the words, "I'm in love with you," echoing endlessly, engulfing me until my legs were shaking and I fell to the pavement, suddenly sapped of all ability apart from replaying what had just transpired, and all America had just said, and still my heart wouldn't slow down.

"America..." I whispered to the emptiness, "What have you done to me? Why do I feel like this? Dammit! You idiot..."

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2701-_

_..._

_Wow, I honestly don't even know what to write._  
><em>I fucked up, I guess.<em>  
><em>Spectacularly as well.<em>  
><em>But really, what did I expect? I can't even argue against what he said.<em>  
><em>I really wanna blame France for convincing me to confess, but I can't.<em>  
><em>It's my fault.<em>  
><em>At least England knows, right? I should feel lighter or something.<em>  
><em>I don't.<em>  
><em>So what do I do now? I can't give up on him- I've tried that. Loads of times.<em>  
><em>But then again, it will never happen between us...<em>  
><em>GAH! I just need to go and do something before I go mad.<em>  
><em>I'll prove myself; show him and everyone else that I'm not just an 'immature brat'.<em>

x~x~x~x~x_  
><em>

The sound of rain patters against the windows. It's a comfort really, after all of this time the sound of rain has become so natural that it's just a part of everyday life. Most people think that rain is depressing, but I don't. Well... there was obviously one time where I hated the rain, but I shall not allow myself to think about that time or of him, because sitting here on my sofa with both a cup of tea and a bottle of scotch handy is perfect and should not be messed with.

Aside from that one time, I love the rain. The rain brings new promises, it washes away the bad, cleans everything, and leaves a blank slate in its wake. It's a bit like a rebirth. Not to mention that rain is water, and some of my best memories involve water. Not the whole Empire thing although I did have some fun experiences during my pirating days, but before then.

When I was a child and my brothers took it upon themselves to bully me, I would always go to the bright, glittering lake afterwards that was in a hidden glade. No one knew of the area apart from me, and the mythical creatures. The fairies there would always keep me company and tell me stories of the world and tales of fantasy and grandeur. Sometimes, if I was lucky, a unicorn would grace us with his presence and I would always be left speechless with his silvery mane and shining coat. Unicorn's have such a melodic call as well. Sometimes, the unicorn and the fairies would sing.

But when it rained, it was the best of all. When the rain came, so did the water sprites. They were mischievous and were always playing pranks, but they were so much fun and always played with me. They would leave glittering streams of water running behind them, and they would control the rain so that it morphed into glorious shapes before they would pool above me and soak me, but the fairies would always dry me off afterwards, fluttering their delicate wings until I was laughing because the sensation tickled.

And when the rain ended, the sun would always come out and light up the new blankness that was full of new possibilities. And then the whole cycle repeated.

I sighed as I thought about the one positive aspect of my childhood years and considered taking a sip of tea before I decided on a swig of the scotch.

Yes, life wasn't necessarily better back then, but it was simpler. Now I have to deal with wars and other countries and paperwork and-

"Oh, damn," I whispered as I quickly looked around and found that my house was currently missing my briefcase from yesterday's meeting. I suppose I must have left it in that room where France ever so kindly offered me his 'words of wisdom'. I pulled a face before taking another swig of the scotch and attempting to stand up.

It didn't go smoothly, but I just about kept my balance. I left the scotch on the table to await my return while I went to the coat closet to grab my raincoat and an umbrella. I wouldn't have bothered if there weren't important documents in there, but there were and I needed to complete reports and statistics in order to pass onto Parliament and the army commanders.

Nothing remarkable happened on my trip over there, save for a gust of wind sweeping along and turning my umbrella inside-out momentarily. By the time I arrived at the meeting building (that was empty seeing as there wasn't a meeting today, thank God) I was relatively dry save for some strands of my hair that were dripping.

I removed my coat and stored the umbrella when I entered before walking down the corridor- picking up the pace and averting my gaze as I walked past _that _room as I tried not to think about it, because there are multiple reasons as to why America said that, war delirium being my favourite theory at the moment- to the furthest room at the end. I turned my nose up at the unsavoury memory that now resides here, but I spotted my briefcase sitting on the desk at the other end and retrieved it. I was about to exit when I caught sight of a piece of paper in the doorway.

I wondered if it had fallen out of my briefcase and picked it up and barely glanced at it. It was a map, and it certainly seems like something of mine, so I put it in the briefcase and thought nothing of it.

_Well, this has been a relatively pain free trip_, I thought as I made my way back down the corridor. But of course, irony just loves to pop up at the most inconvenient times and I found myself tripping over something a little further up the corridor, a few metres away from _that _room.

"Ow, what on earth was that?" I muttered, untangling myself from my briefcase in order to investigate the mysterious item that had caused me to fall.

It was a book of some description with countless pages. It looked old, very old, but it seemed to be in quite a decent condition. The gold spine appeared a little faded, and the royal blue wasn't as bright as I'm sure it must have been once upon a time, and I can't help but think that this book seems awfully familiar.

And then I remembered that this is the book that America is constantly writing in. His... romance novel, was it?  
>But for some reason, it seems familiar for another reason.<p>

As I had tripped over it, the book had opened to a page at random, covered in America's messy scrawl. I had no interest in reading it of course, but to just leave such a book here would be a safety hazard after all.

I got to my feet and picked up the book, thoroughly intending on closing it and leaving it on one of the tables, but then a word caught my eye:

_England._

I quirked an eyebrow. Did he set the story in my country? As much as I hate to admit it, my curiosity was piqued and so I thought it wouldn't hurt too much to take the novel home and read some of it. At the very least it should provide a laugh, and Lord knows I need a good laugh after yesterday. Besides, if America doesn't want his novels being read then he shouldn't leave them in the corridor.

In fact, I have a _right _to read this book and laugh at him after what he's done.

Done convincing myself, I shoved the book into my briefcase before I went on to grab my coat and umbrella, and headed home.

My beloved scotch was still there waiting for me, as well as the faithful tea that had unfortunately cooled. I shrugged my coat off and hung it up before I made myself a fresh cup and then I finally sat down. Paperwork should have been the first priority, but after seeing that the novel takes place in my country I am curious as to the plot.

I made myself comfortable on the sofa and opened to the first page.

_-Entry One-_

_Today, England came to visit me! He didn't tell me he was coming but I already knew anyway. _He cooked me awesome food but was a meanie and put the scones where I couldn't reach them once I'd had three.__

I stopped reading. This is... a journal? But he said that it wasn't a diary! Why would he lie?__  
><em>_

I almost put the book away, because something this personal isn't meant for others to read, but it was as if my eyes refused to listen to my rational mind and just carried on reading, taking in the words of a childhood America in the journal I had given him- that's why this book always seemed so familiar- all those years ago. I'm honestly surprised he's kept it, or even still _uses _it after everything that has happened.

By entry two I could already feel myself getting overly emotional, and when I read:

__Before he left, he told me do to my best and become strong while he was away... I'll definitely do that. If I get big and strong, then England wouldn't always have to go off fighting, and then he could stay with me. If I grow up into a country he can be proud of, then he'll want to always be by my side. If I can just become big and strong, England and I can live happily ever after.__

I felt the tears that I refused to let fall yesterday re-emerge. Just when did this young boy, so happy and innocent and full of wonderful ideas become someone who would confess a fake love just to hurt someone? Why did everything have to change? Is it all my fault? My own brothers were never good examples, so maybe I was always bound to fail him...__  
><em>_

Despite my vision blurring slightly, my body was on autopilot as I kept turning page after page after page, reading about how child America had climbed his first tree, had made friends with all of the buffalo, read the fairytales I had brought from my country... I really had missed so much while I was away fighting.

And then a particular part of one of the entries caught my attention:

__I actually have a confession to make, when I read your letter... I got slightly annoyed. However, I am unable to say why._  
><em>Normally, I'd be so happy to receive a letter from you, and I really was... but then I read it. I wonder if you could explain it to me, why I got <em>_so annoyed when you called me a 'precious brother.' After all, I am your brother, and when I was younger that would have made me so happy._  
><em>So why do I feel so irritated now? Why do I feel that simply being your 'brother' isn't enough?<em>_

A letter of mine? Well, judging by the information that would have been the letter I sent ahead on the night that Spain and France hired that assassin... But that was centuries ago. Why would something so weird be written there?__  
><em>_

From then on the entries always held that same air about them. Of course America still talked about learning to shoot guns and how to farm and carried on writing about how he'd spend most afternoons in the meadow... but every time I was mentioned there was always some sort of confusion there.

__I love England._  
><em>Sure, it's natural to love your brother, it's natural to be worried about him when he's at war, it's natural to miss him when he's away... But is it natural to get annoyed at the <em>_thought of him only loving me as a brother? I mean, what else is there? In the fairytales, they always go on about love and happy endings... but I don't know if I'm happy as his brother anymore.__

"E-Even back then he-" I whispered, looking over the words. Even before I came back, he was already thinking of ending our relationship? He didn't want to be my brother? Why wasn't he happy? Did my actions in the war repel him? Did I write something weird in my letter?__  
><em>_

And then I read the one entry that sent my mind into shut down:

_-Entry 946-_

_England... I think I've really gone mad. Can you help me? I don't understand. _  
><em>I love you. I love you. I love you.<em>  
><em>I said that so much as a child and I meant it. But the gravity of those words... I never realised their true meaning. If I told you that I loved you now, it would be a lie.<em>  
><em>Just where did I go wrong? Why did I cross the line? I'm sick. Something is wrong with me.<em>  
><em>I must have figured it out ages ago, but I was to scared to say it.<em>  
><em>England... 'I love you' is no longer the case. I think that I may have actually... I think that it would be correct to say that...<em>  
><em>I'm <em>in_ love with you._  
><em>Please... don't hate me.<em>

I stared, opened mouthed at the words being displayed right before my eyes. All those years ago he- so then that means-_  
><em>

"He... Shit, he meant it yesterday," I finally managed. America _meant_ it. When he said a long time, he _meant _it. And he doesn't want me to hate him because of it... and I went and fucking yelled at him!

"Shit... shit!" I repeated, shaking my head, trying to think about this. Back when America and I were 'brothers' his feelings changed, and I failed to notice. I knew something was off, but I never could have imagined... but then why did he fight to get away? I mean, I would have listened!

Yet when I carried on reading the entries, and how America had written how he wouldn't be seen as anything else if he didn't gain independence... he was right. Back then, I wouldn't have taken him seriously. I may have listened, but I wouldn't have acted any different towards him.

My heart clenched and twisted and it was suddenly quite difficult to breathe, especially as I read his accounts of the Boston Tea Party, the taxation from the Empire, the colonists take on it all... then of the war.

I just wanted to stop reading, pretend as if I hadn't picked up this journal and remain ignorant... but I couldn't. Because... because America really does love me...

_Ba-thump. Ba-thump. _Ba-thump.__

I carried on reading for hours straight. All of his opinions; his thoughts. Not just the ones of me, but _everything_._  
><em>

x~x~x~x~x

_-Entry 2194-_

_Lots of new people are arriving every day, but they look different from the people I've met so far. There skin is darker. Much darker. And they don't speak English either, which makes it difficult for me to understand them. Apart from the skin colour, they seem fairly normal, but they do dress weird. Apparently they have been brought over as slaves, and they can help my country economically. But something about the whole thing just doesn't sit right with me._

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2200-<em>

_The newcomers aren't picking up the language that well, but they are learning basic things. But they can't read._

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2270-<br>_

_My new boss, Abe Lincoln, says he wants to abolish slavery.  
>I'm so glad, it's getting out of control. I know I'm not the only one involved, but I feel like shit every time I see how we're treating them.<em>

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2284-<br>_

_Slavery is the best thing to ever happen to the States. Why are the North acting in this way? Do they want to ruin me and my country? Fucking traitors!  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2287-<br>_

_Why the hell is everyone breaking away? Why can't they see that slavery is wrong? And when the fuck did I write entry 2284?  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2290-<br>_

_Who am I? Where am I? I don't have a fucking clue! I'm all alone. I don't understand. I don't know what I want. I don't know what the people want! Someone, help me... am I the Confederate States of America? Or am I The Union? I don't know... I don't feel like me at all. I'm confused, and it hurts to move. Scars keep appearing on my body, screams and cries are always ringing in my ears and WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE! What the fuck is happening? I don't know._

_Help me._

_Help me.  
><em>

_Help me.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2299-<br>_

_I am the United States of America...  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2314-<em>

_I heard that all of the European Powers are caught up in some huge war. President Wilson says that there is no need for our country to get involved with it.  
>Apparently it is a war unlike any other, I wonder why it even came about.<br>England is in this war... I hope he is okay. It's been over a century since I saw him last; yet my feelings remain the same.  
>I know that just sitting here and expecting to magically see him again won't achieve anything, but honestly I don't know how I should even go about being able to meet him again.<br>England... I hope we can be together again soon._

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2426-<br>_

_Dude! Life is totally sweet! I feel super strong and better than ever!  
>And the economy... dude, I can't even describe it! INSANE is probably pretty close.<br>Seriously, I feel so energetic all the time, and my people are coming up with so many amazing new ideas and developments it's crazy. I feel like a proud dad or something!  
>Is everywhere else like this? My new boss doesn't like trading with other countries as much so I dunno... but I think the war kinda badly hit those in Europe. I actually gave a huge loan to Germany recently.<br>But if those in Europe are currently in trouble, then is England okay? He hasn't asked for any loans, so that's a good sign right? And last I heard he's in that club thing that my last boss wanted me to join... League of Nations was it? So I'm sure all those guys are doing just fine.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2468-<br>_

_I've got a cold.  
>I have a feeling it has to do with the economy. It keeps going up and down and up and down... it's kinda worrying actually.<br>_

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2482-<br>_

_I feel like shit. My head is pounding.  
>Wall Street went fucking insane today. Everything's going wrong.<br>Hoover says it's fine, that we'll be prosperous again in a while, but I'm not so sure.  
>I ache all over and bruises are beginning to show up. And people aren't happy.<br>It doesn't seem like this will be painless.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>-Entry 2496-<br>_

_I have a new boss, and together I'm determined that we can get out of this. I still have a permanent headache, and I feel heavier than usual, but I can do this. As a country it is my duty to help my people and sort crises like this out, and I refuse to fail.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>-2500-<br>_

_The European powers are at war again. My boss wants to stay out of it, but it seems more serious than the last one. On the plus side though, I'm beginning to feel a little better. I may not be physically in the war, but I'm helping out by supplying weapons and stuff to the allied side, and the economy is finally starting to look better.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>-2508-<br>_

_Shit, England's fighting alone. I want to help him. Now.  
>But my boss refuses to let me, and the people don't want war.<br>But I can't just sit here and let him fight the Axis guys all alone! I want to help. I need to do something.  
>I need a way to join him.<em>

* * *

><p>It really is remarkable, reading everything like this. It's an insight into an America that I don't get to see. And seeing it all together really puts it into perspective.<p>

America is his own country. A country who has endured Civil Wars, battles of his own, who's had to find way to deal with adversity, who's felt the effects of a Depression and fought countless hardships... Simply put, America has grown up. He's not the child I once felt obligated to protect, he can do that himself, and has proven it time and again. Through it all, he is still standing.

And despite everything, he still manages to smile and remain optimistic. That is something I was never able to do, and I have to admit that I have to respect him for it. For such a young country, he has already achieved so much. Especially with his Civil War, my own had me completely disorientated, drifting in and out of consciousness... and the unbelievable _pain_. It felt like I was tearing in two.

I eventually turned to the last page, and I couldn't help a stab of guilt overcoming me. He was honest with me yesterday, but I...

I was an idiot.

"Damn, what do I do now?" I asked the empty room, leaning back on the sofa and taking a deep breath. Without my noticing it, America had grown up and matured enough to actually fall in love... but why me? I know nothing of romantic love, he honestly couldn't have picked a worse person.

Yet even as I tell myself that, I can already feel a small smile tugging at the corner's of my lips.

America wasn't just mocking me. However, he _was_ serious. The least I can do is think over this seriously, and give him an honest answer. It wouldn't be fair to do anything else. So that begs the question:

What do _I _feel towards him?

But just that questions gives me an immediate headache. It just isn't as simple as: 'Oh, you love me? Bloody brilliant! Now kiss me and let's walk off into the sunset'. This isn't a fairytale, and even now that I know his side of things he was still once like a sibling to me. Can I honestly feel the same way? And how can I be sure I'm not confusing my emotions?

"Fuck this is hard," I mumbled, sitting up a bit and eyeing the scotch that was still there on the table. I reached out and picked the bottle up, but before I can take a drink the phone began ringing.

"Bad timing," I muttered, getting up and picking up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Angleterre! Oh thank God! You 'ave to get over to my place now!" came France's frantic voice.

I would have made a comment on how I was currently not on speaking terms with him, but he sounded so scared and desperate that I forgot to be angry with him and replied, with a hint of worry in my own voice, "Why, what's happened?"

"The Axis have launched an attack! And I'm still not completely sure, but I think Amérique 'as been shot down!"

"_What?_" I asked, my eyes widening and my throat suddenly drying up.

"Well there were reports of 'is fighter plane flying over my place, and then I 'eard gunfire and- and- well 'is plane is wrecked near the border between myself and Germany and-"

"Shit! Oh my God! O-Okay, hang on, I'll get over there!" I practically yelled, my blood running cold as I thought about how America had written about having to 'prove' himself in some way. That complete and utter idiot! Going on a fucking suicide mission is not the way to go about these things! It always has to be extremes with him.

But even America isn't stupid enough to attack without good cause... It was almost as if he _knew _an attack was going to be launched.

Suddenly that map I had found earlier came into my head, and although I wasn't sure why, I felt compelled to look it over. When I threw the briefcase lid open and fished out the correct document, I felt slightly dizzy.

It certainly wasn't anything of mine. It looked like the map America and I had found when we were on reconnaissance... I flipped to the back, and saw America's handwriting scribbled there, detailing what the map was apparently showing. I turned it around and applied his theories to the paper as quickly as I could and it all seemed to match up.

But, if he was capable of doing something as complex as this then why has he been coming up with nothing but stupid suggestions during the meetings? But now is hardly the time to ponder this, at least I know why he was attacking and where the Axis are going to counter.

America... America, please be okay.

Please, please, _please_...

x~x~x~x~x

I stared at the twisted metal, warped and barely recognisable as an aircraft. The only thing that gave it away, cemented the fact that this was indeed America's, was the hints of paint and the charred parts that looked like jagged teeth. He'd shown the design to me once, and I'd called it stupid, called him stupid, he _is _stupid!

"God dammit! What was he thinking?" I managed, my voice sounding thick.

The flames had subsided, but they'd left their mark, burning the immediate area, leaving the putrid smell of burnt metal and land. I had to look away and take a few deep breaths.

Surely he's okay... I mean, we're countries. It takes a lot to kill us. But if that's the case, where is America? All that's here is the empty shell of his plane, and just because it's hard to kill a country, it's not impossible. But would something like this really kill him? It shouldn't, but then _where is he_?

"Angleterre," France said from beside me.

"I... I yelled at him," I said quietly. "I told him that I didn't want him in my life, and then I- I-"

"It can't be 'epled, it's already been said now. But we 'ave to focus on dealing with Germany and Italy."

"But what if he's hurt somewhere?" I asked, beginning to feel hysteria take hold. "What if this was too much? I know how strong he is, but he's still new in terms of countries! What if he just couldn't-"

"Angleterre, pull yourself together!" France raised his vice, slapping me across my face. I stopped, blinking for a moment before touching my stinging cheek.

"I... I suppose I needed that," I said after a moment. "Although if you ever try that again I will wipe you off of the map."

"There's the Angleterre I love to 'ate," France said, finally managing a small smile. "I'm sure wherever 'e is, 'e is safe." And as soon as those words had left his lips, a gunshot sounded from behind us. And it sounded close.

"Well, that's more than can be said for us," I said grimly, pulling out my Enfield Revolver. "Unfortunately due to my mad dash over here, I am ill equipped. I have my handgun, a few grenades and a knife... Yourself?"

"A pistol and a MAS-38," he said, indicating to the submachine gun slung over his back.

"This is going to be rough," I said, cocking the gun.

"You can say that again, mon ami."

And then I felt a bullet flying past me, narrowly missing, and the metallic clang of it hitting against the aircraft remains. And then we saw Germany standing across from us, rifle in hand and aiming to perfection.

"Merde," France murmured under his breath.

"Ve~ I'm supposed to stand here, right Germany?" we heard a light voice call from behind us. Sure enough, when we turned to look, there was Italy, looking completely unphazed as if he wasn't about to engage in a fight. That was until I glared at him.

"Uwah! It's England!" he cried, pulling a white flag from somewhere and waving it. I couldn't help but smirk just the tiniest bit, at least he had the good sense to be sufficiently scared.

"You handle Italy and I'll go after Germany?" I whispered to France, who nodded and readied his rifle. I turned my attention back around to focus on the blonde who had luckily been distracted by his ally.

"Italy! Don't you dare run away, remember your training!" he yelled, and I took that as my opportunity to close some of the distance and hurl a grenade. He saw it in time and dived to the side, suddenly back in the battle. Unfortunately, my revolver isn't long range, so I had to get closer, and I managed that by chucking the grenades I had in succession so he couldn't land a hit.

It's scary in a way, the way weapons have advanced. It seems like just yesterday this battle would have been fought with swords, but I suppose Germany is also a new country so he'll already be well versed in modern advancements. It's sad really, all of us fight because of our bosses and governments... well, with the exception of France and I. But in the last war Germany and I played football together on Christmas, both of us voicing our wishes for the war to end. And now we're all at it again. It's a never ending cycle, one that I've been spinning around in far too many times. Sure the settings, the opponents, and the weapons change, but it's all the same principle.

I pulled the pin on one of my last grenades and was about to throw it, but Germany found his footing and didn't hesitate to aim and pull the trigger.

"Ah, shit!" I hissed as the bullet grazed my right arm, making it feel like it was on fire. I briefly checked the damage and saw my sleeve had been ripped away with the bullet, blood beginning to pour from the wound. I quickly threw the grenade before it blew up in my face, but then I had to clutch my arm. It wasn't anything major as long as I had it seen to relatively quickly. Blood loss wasn't really something that would pose a threat with this sort of wound, but the pain was dizzying enough, and infection was always a possibility.

Then it was me on the defensive, trying to gauge where the bullets would fly and hoping I could dodge to the best of my abilities. My dominant arm currently numb, I had to switch my revolver to my left hand and try and get my own shots on target. A quick glance backwards confirmed that France had actually won a battle for once, but hadn't taken Italy hostage (which would have helped with this whole Germany situation), rather let him run away.

Another shot had me letting out a scream. Same arm, same place, only a little further in so that a bullet was now buried in there. I bit my lip, trying to ignore the searing pain that shot through me, drawing blood from my lip as I did this action. I saw Germany getting ready to take another shot, and all I could think of doing right now was making a dive out of the way and take a few more shots, hoping that France would get his arse into gear and help, but then I heard the sound of an aeroplane in the skies, and not only did it grab my attention, but also Germany's.

It was one of France's, and when I turned around with a questioning expression, silently asking when France had sent for backup, he looked just as confused as me.

When shots began being fired down, aimed at Germany, he had no choice but to retreat for the moment, because he wasn't armed with any heavy artillery to shoot down any more planes. The shots continued well past when Germany had disappeared, allowing me sufficient time to remove my jacket and tear one of the sleeves off so I could fashion a make-shift bandage for my injured arm to last until I could see to it properly.

When the plane eventually landed, near France and I who were still wondering who had come to our aid, the mystery was finally solved when the door opened and out stepped a weary looking America.

America.

Oh thank God, he's fine! He's alive! He's, he's...

"You guys all right?" he called, beginning to jog over. He stopped when he saw my arm currently bandaged up and bit his lip. I was too busy feeling giddy at the fact that America was completely unharmed to care about my arm right now. So many thoughts had gone through my mind as I saw his own wrecked aircraft, thoughts of his well-being, if he was still alive, if he was then what condition was he in? But he was right before me, a little worn, but otherwise completely fine.

"America," I whispered, my body responding of its own accord as I began to take a few shaky steps towards him, as if he would disappear if I wasn't careful.

"America, you... you..." I carried on walking, picking up the pace until I was running towards him. "America, you fucking idiot!" I yelled, disregarding the state of my arm and punching him as hard as my injured self would allow. Of course it would barely hurt him but he still took a step back, looking shocked and worried.

"England I-"

"SHUT UP!" I yelled, punching him again, and again, and again, refusing to let up. "What the fuck did you think you were doing you git?_! _So I get a little mad and you decide to go and get yourself killed? Is that what you thought? Did you even stop to consider anyone else in your little plan? Damn you, why must you be so infuriating? Dammit!" I yelled, still punching, but they were getting weaker and I was beginning to shake violently.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought I'd... I thought I'd lost you and I felt so helpless and for God's sake you wanker! You think you can confess your love to me and then go on a fucking suicide mission? What manner of man does that? You thought you could just leave the allies? Leave me? We're allies right, so fucking tell me next time!" And then I felt tears sliding down my cheeks, I was an utter mess and my arm was killing me but I honestly didn't care, because America was okay...

"I thought you'd gone," I managed through the tears, my clenched fists suddenly caught in his hands.

"England, I thought you said- but didn't you- uhh... I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be so worried," he said gently, but I just looked up and locked my gaze with his, glaring.

"You thought I wouldn't care? For fuck sake America, read the goddamn atmosphere! Of course I'd be worried! I don't know what I'd do if you weren't... If you had been hurt I wouldn't be able to function! Damn you! This is all your fault! If you want to go and get yourself killed, then I'll do it for you the next time!" I yelled, my vision now completely obscured as the tears continued to fall.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

"No, you don't think!" I accused.

"But after what you said... why are you-"

And once again I cut him off, because everything he is saying is just plain idiotic.

"Why do you think?_! _I was so worried because obviously I-! I... uh, I..." I stopped, my throat clenching up and my mind struggling to make sense of everything. What was I going to say? What is the end of that sentence? Why was I on the verge of breaking down? It can't just be concern over an ally can it? I'm pretty sure if it had been Russia I would have been throwing a party, so then... what are my feelings towards this absolutely infuriating, idiotic, annoying, stupid, ridiculous, funny, optimistic, absolutely wonderful and completely amazing nation?

I still couldn't finish the sentence, but I found myself being pulled into a tight embrace by America, and all of a sudden everything else didn't matter anymore. I didn't bother cursing my quickening heart beat, the tears flowed of their own accord, and I wrapped my arms around him as well, burying my face in his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry England," he said, holding me tighter.

And even though it was all so confusing and messed up and strange and weird and incomprehensible and exciting and magnificent, I was absolutely certain that this feeling, whatever it is, was always going to be something only America would be able to give to me. For someone to make me so angry and happy and light-headed and muddled up... it's all him.

And I knew I didn't want to let this feeling go, and I wanted to stay in his embrace for as long as time would allow because despite everything, I can't imagine my life without him.

"Idiot..."

x~x~x~x~x

**And that's all for this chapter~ So, this thing is getting pretty close to it's conclusion (I think... my plans indicate it is, but my plans have been known to be drastically wrong) so I hope you all enjoyed it and thank you so much for reading~ I'd love to hear from you guys, because it really means so much to me, especially with this fic in particular. I think it's always gonna hold a specially place in my heart :3  
>And about the diary entries I included, that was so that UK could see how much US had grown up and matured, so much so that it would be impossible for him to keep desperately clinging to old memories and denying everything. Also, more about how America got to be in one of France's planes next chapter :)<br>So once more: Thank you to those who read and support this, you have my endless thanks :)**

**xx-animeXalchemist-xx**


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